


Lover, Liar, Legend

by GirlwhoLived



Series: Daughter of Destiny, Queen of Desire [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Always a Girl! Merlin, Established Relationship, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, Romance, Season/Series 02, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-15 07:15:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4597674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlwhoLived/pseuds/GirlwhoLived
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is in the air at Camelot and everyone seems to be affected.<br/>Arthur and Merlyn have finally admitted their feelings and begin a secret affair, which quickly becomes passionate. But maintaining the servant/master relationship is not always easy. Especially when magic is involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Cold Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my cover art!  
> [Lover-Liar-Legend](http://dakiti.deviantart.com/art/Lover-Liar-Legend-602134402) by [Dakiti](http://dakiti.deviantart.com/) on [DeviantArt](http://www.deviantart.com)

 

“Merlyn!”

Stumbling to her feet, Merlyn pushed open the chamber door. Arthur was huddled in his blankets, a pillow clutched to his head. She understood how he felt. The throbbing behind her eyes was getting worse with each minute that trickled past.

“Sire?”

“Are you deaf?”

Merlyn rubbed the sleep from her eyes, “I wish.”

Arthur rolled over, and pointed at the door, “Go tell them to stop. Honestly, I’m going mad! The whole castle is shaking!”

“Me?” Merlyn stared at him, “but the King’s ordered them to keep working!”

“And I am the prince! Now go!”

Arthur pulled the pillow back around his head as the clanging of pick axes echoed up from the dungeons. Glaring at him, Merlyn was tempted to hit him with a pillow. It was the middle of the night and the last thing she wanted to do was trek through the castle. They may have confessed their feelings for each other but the dynamics between them had not changed. She was still his servant and he was still a prat.

Muttering to herself, Merlyn took the ring of keys from his bedside and slipped out the door. Had Merlyn been able to sleep in her own bed she probably wouldn’t have heard the noise, but no --she had to care for Arthur around the clock. For the past week she had been sleeping on a mat outside of his room, as Arthur was still incredibly weak. The Cup of Life had saved his life, but it had not healed his wound. And so she was stuck with a weakened and increasingly whiny prince. Picking up her skirts, Merlyn made her way down the dark staircase.

The ring of tools against rock continued to echo through the castle as she made the long trek to the dungeons, growing louder with each step. Uther had decided to expand the dungeons -- a fact which boded well for no one.

Slipping down into the current dungeons, two sleepy guards looked at her hopefully as she unlocked the door leading towards the construction.

Flickering torches lit up the small tunnel, and Merlyn cringed each time the metal tools struck solid rock. With energy she didn’t have, Merlyn marched down towards the workers. It was warm down in the tunnel, the air full of dust, and Merlyn cringed at the loud noise. Head throbbing, she wondered if their was a spell that could muffle the noise. Then the men shouted, and the hammering stopped. Turning the corner, Merlyn found the workers pushing aside the rubble, and a torch was stuck through a small hole in the wall.

A guard, who had previously been half asleep, jumped to attention. Yelling orders at the workers,  the men continued to widen the hole, pushing rocks out of the way. Two men shoved themselves through the opening, disappearing into the dark. A torch was held up, and the remaining workers gasped.

Merlyn crept as close as she could, lifting her skirts free from the rubble, “what is it?”

“Some sort of tomb, I think,” a worker blushed when she met his eye, “m’lady.” he added hurriedly. Now it was Merlyn’s turn to blush. But before she could set the man straight, there was a scream.

The guard was instantly shouting orders as the workers crowded the opening.

“Jem! Tom!” someone shouted, “are you alright in there?”

“He’s dead!” a voice cried out from the darkness, “Jem’s been shot by something!”

The guard peeked into the opening and swore.

“Tom, get out. Now.”

As the worker scrambled back out, the guard stood in front of the opening, blocking it from view.

“Alright. This is now a matter for the King. You are relieved of service until further notice. Speak of this to no one, under penalty of death.”

The workers grumbled to themselves, but one by one headed out of the tunnel.

Taking a torch from the last man, the guard waved Merlyn closer. Jem lay in a pool of blood, a few feet from a large stone casket.

“The King must hear of this.”

Merlyn nodded, “I will make sure he and the Prince know immediately.”

From the flickering torchlight Merlyn saw the twinkle of gold and jewels.

 

* * *

Arthur was impressed. Ducking through the hole from the workers, he stared at the secret chamber. The room was small, but stuffed full of riches. Furniture, jewelry and clothes surrounded a large stone casket. It was an archaic practice, to be buried with one’s wealth, and judging by the dust, this tomb was very old. Arthur wondered if this was the real reason for his father’s decision to expand the dungeons. What else was hidden under the castle?

What struck him the most, however, was that the tomb had been encased in rock. It was only luck that the workers had stumbled onto the find. The tomb had no doors or entrance he could see -- so how was it here? Arthur glanced at the body of the unfortunate worker who had stumbled onto a booby trap. This was a strange place indeed.

“Gaius, have you found out whose tomb this is?”

The physician looked up from the table of books in the corner, “I have a suspicion, my lord.”

Before Arthur could ask, the clatter of a dropped plate had him turning in alarm.

Merlyn scrambled to pick up the gold serving dish as his father arrived. Uther rolled his eyes, striding past her into the chamber. His father had been ecstatic since Arthur had brought him the news this morning, and now he looked around the chamber in awe.

“This is a good day for Camelot. Give the workers a bonus, this is a great find.”

Arthur nodded, sparing a glance at the dead worker in the corner.

“Gaius, what have you found?” the King asked, inspecting the room with a careful eye.

The physician carefully brought some papers to the stone casket, and laid them out for the king.

“I believe, my lord, that this is the tomb of the court sorcerer Cornelius Sigan.”

Uther nodded, glancing around at the riches, “He always was a greedy fellow.”

“You knew him?” Arthur was surprised.

His father picked up a jeweled goblet, “No. He was court sorcerer to my father. But he died before I was born.”

Arthur grimaced, If the man was a sorcerer it explained how the tomb had no entrance. But why the booby trap? Glancing over to Gaius, he saw a similar expression of unease. Something about this did not make sense.

“Call Geoffrey of Monmouth and bring some guards to carry these things up to the library. I want them cataloged and added to the treasury.”

Arthur nodded, “right away.”

Goblet still in hand, his father glanced again around the chamber one last time, “Remind the workers that they are to speak of this to no one. Keep this place locked and under guard until it is cleared. The expansion can wait. And remove the body.”

Then he was gone.

Merlyn finally came out of the corner, stepping around a large vase. With a small smile, she came beside him, carefully avoiding a sunken stone. The booby trap, Arthur realized. And there were probably more scattered around.

“Gaius,” the man looked up from the pile of books, “what do you know of this Cornelius Sigan.”

“Like the King said, he was court sorcerer to the late King Robert's, and your grandfather, King Ambrosius. He--Sigan-- had great power. He could change day into night, turn the tides, and legend has it, his spells helped build Camelot itself. But...” the physician trailed off, turning over a paper with faded writing.

“Yes?”

“Few mourned his death, I’m afraid. He was not known for being especially kind or giving.”

Arthur was unsurprised, Sigan had buried his wealth where none could find it, not unlike several politicians Arthur knew.

Gaius was still reading through the old papers, a renewed interest in his eye. This time it was Merlyn who questioned him.

“You found something?” She asked.

Gaius nodded distractedly, “It seems he was also quite obsessed with the theory of immortality.”

Arthur did not like the sound of that, “Immortality?”

Gaius nodded.

“But he didn’t succeed,” Merlyn motioned to the casket.

Gaius smiled, “No, I think we can assume not. Much like alchemy, the search for immortality is beyond any sorcerers power.”

Arthur still felt uneasy, “then why the booby traps?”

Gaius shrugged, “as your father said, the man was quite greedy. He did not want anyone else to share in his riches.”

Arthur glanced at the stone casket, where a large blue jewel lay. Unlike the rest of the chamber the casket was plain, only the jewel giving it any sort of value or decoration. But no doubt such a jewel could buy a whole kingdom.

“Very well,” Arthur sighed, “Merlyn go fetch Geoffrey of Monmouth. I will send guards down to you, Gaius. Warn them of the booby traps. I doubt he would have had just one.”

Gaius bowed, and Arthur steered Merlyn out of the chamber. With her luck she would set all the traps off at once.

As predicted, Merlyn stumbled twice in the dark tunnel. The second time Arthur grabbed her waist, forgetting about his shoulder until it twinged painfully. His arm stiffened for a moment, but it still caught Merlyn’s attention. Spinning around, she pressed her hand to his shoulder.

“Sire, be careful!”

In the flickering torch light she carefully pulled aside his tunic, “you mustn't pull out the stitches!”

He had only a small bandage covering the wound, and Merlyn’s hand easily covered it. Her eyes carefully inspected the bandage before slowly drifting up to meet his. Face to face, his hands still about her waist, they stared at each other. Besides lingering glances and secret smiles, they had been acting like normal. But now, standing so close to her, Arthur wanted nothing more than to push her against the wall and kiss her.

It was Merlyn’s hand, gently sliding up his neck, that sent him over the edge.

Gripping her waist, Arthur captured her lips with his.

This time the kiss was slow, almost nervous, as they explored each others mouths. Yet even such a delicate moment lit his body on fire. Arthur knew his fingers were digging into her waist, but Merlyn had only leaned closer, her own hand gripping his hair. Just being able to hold her like this was a gift, and Arthur couldn’t help but pull her closer.

A bang ricocheted down the tunnel and instantly they separated.

Nodding at the two guards passing, Arthur took his servant’s hand and pulled her out of the tunnel. He knew it was risky, and had dropped her hand as soon as they stepped out into the torch lit dungeon, but he had not been able to let her go. His heart raced as he calmly walked back to his chambers, knowing without looking that Merlyn was a few steps behind. What in the world was he doing? Kissing a servant where anyone could have found them? He was a love-struck fool. And if they were caught it would not be he who suffered for it.

When the door finally closed behind them, Arthur finally allowed himself to breathe.

Turning, he found Merlyn leaning against the door, cheeks flushed.

“Gods, Merlyn,” he shook his head, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I just...” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Even now his whole body ached, wanting to feel her again.

“I wasn’t thinking either,” Merlyn sounded apologetic.

Meeting her eye, Arthur could not help but hold out his hand. She took it shyly, and Arthur happily wrapped his hand around hers.

“We just have to be more careful.”

Merlyn nodded, “I am still your servant, after all.”

She said it so matter-of-factly, and Arthur’s chest tightened.

“Yes...” he whispered.

Giving her hand one last squeeze, he let it drop.

“Alright, I am going hunting soon with the knights, so you will need to prepare Argos for me. And don’t forget to tell Geoffrey of Monmouth about the King’s orders. Gaius is no doubt wondering what is taking so long. I-I will be down in a moment.”

Merlyn nodded, and with a small smile slipped from his side and out the door.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur knew he had to smarten up. In public they had to act like their normal selves. Her punishment would be far worse than his if they were caught. And he could not risk losing her.

Heading behind the changing screen Arthur splashed his face with cold water.

* * *

Merlyn bit her tongue, glaring at Arthur as she watched this nobody fix Argos’ saddle. She had never done his saddle incorrectly, or any other of Arthur’s horses for that matter. Argos snorted as Cedric stroked his side, and Merlyn had to agree; she did not trust this eager-faced stranger. Arthur, of course, was oblivious to the man’s bootlicking, inviting him along on the hunt.

Heading out into the woods, Merlyn found herself keeping an eye on Cedric as much as Arthur. There was something about him that she did not trust.


	2. A Cold Heart II

Two days had passed and Cedric had found himself a job in the castle, and seemed constantly ready to serve Arthur, hardly giving them a moment alone. And for whatever reason, Arthur seemed to encourage it. Merlyn’s dislike for the new servant grew into suspicion.  Cedric had taken credit for saving Arthur on the hunt, and so had won the Prince’s approval, but had only made an enemy of Merlyn.

Storming off towards the stables, Merlyn felt her magic tingle in anger. This was the second time Cedric had done her chores, bringing Arthur a breakfast that could have fed ten people. But, she rolled her eyes, he had conveniently forgotten to muck out the horses. Not that it was even her job; the stable boys knew caring for the royal horses was top priority. But Cedric’s attention, and Arthur’s instant trust was all too familiar; the same thing had happened with Sophia, the sidhe temptress. But Merlyn had felt no magic from Cedric, and despite her dislike of him, had no evidence to prove otherwise.

Grabbing a pitchfork, Merlyn ducked inside Archimedes stall. The war horse bumped her arm, and she rubbed his face, stroking the white blaze. Silently she asked the stallion to follow her, and he slowly headed into the next stall where Argos was eating. Two males together was never a good idea, but under her touch the horses were as docile as kittens, and they happily shared a bin of oats. Sighing, she turned back to Archimedes empty stall; she might as well work out her frustration.

* * *

“Merlyn!” 

Arthur’s annoyance was only slightly lessened by the worry over finding his servant passed out in the stables. That could be the only explanation, because he had found -- and quickly wiped off -- horse dung from her face. The past week she had been sleeping outside of his chambers on nothing but a mat -- was she truly that exhausted from caring for him? Had she asked he would have gladly given her the afternoon off. Arthur bit his lip, wishing he was strong enough to lift her up and carry her to her own bed. But Cedric was going to be here soon and he had to keep up appearances.

“Merlyn!” he yelled again, and finally she jolted awake.

Stumbling to her feet, Merlyn blinked hurriedly, staring at her surroundings in shock.

“Arthur--uh, Sire!” She corrected, cheeks flushing.

“Merlyn what the hell happened?”

The poor girl glanced around the stable, as if looking for clues, “I was mucking out the stables, as you asked...”

Arthur nodded shortly, seeing Cedric appearing at the stable door.

“And?”

She looked at him helplessly.

“The horses, Merlyn. Where are they?”

Her head swung around as she realized that both stables were empty, and the doors unlatched. Merlyn’s confusion only grew, “but...they wouldn’t...they were right here. I-I shut the door!”

Arthur shook his head, “fetch them. Now. And then take the day off.”

Her reaction was unexpected. Merlyn stared at him like he had threatened to put her in the stocks again, “but, why?”

Arthur wished he could comfort her, instead of keeping his arms crossed against his chest, “clearly you are exhausted. Rest up and I will see you later.”

Her mouth fell open, and Arthur feared she might cry.

“If I may, Sire,” Cedric’s voice had Arthur turning around, “I think the night off would do her even more good. Wouldn’t want her to get ill, after all.”

Arthur nodded, turning back only to find Merlyn fuming.

“I am fine, Sire!”

Clearly she wasn’t, the poor girl looked ready to explode. She was angry and hurt, and Arthur feared the reason. Perhaps they could not remain servant and master now that they had confessed their feelings.

“It’s fine, Merlyn. Cedric will see to me tonight. Get some proper rest and I will see you in the morning.” He tried to make his voice as soothing as possible, but Merlyn only looked more upset. Glaring past him, Merlyn swallowed harshly and stormed out of the stables.

* * *

Sleep was the last thing on her mind as she slammed open to the door to Gauis’s shop. The horses had come instantly to her side, and, to his surprise, had obediently followed a stable boy back inside. Magic sparked at her fingers; Merlyn wanted nothing more than to throttle that bootlicking Cedric. Arthur, the stupid clotpole, was too blind to see that Cedric was after something. He was trying to steal her position as the Prince’s servant. That only made her laugh, Cedric would have to do a lot better if he wanted to replace her.  Arthur loved her, of that she was confident-- though at the moment her own feelings were mixed with anger. But if she had to, she could easily remind Arthur of her importance. Being friends with Morgana had taught her a lot in how to distract a man. 

“Merlyn, you are home early.”

Gaius sounded amused, and Merlyn jumped, realizing she had been glaring at the doorway. Huffing in annoyance, she walked over and collapsed next him on the bench.

“Arthur gave me the day off. And the night.”

“Why is that a bad thing?”

Merlyn pouted, “because this new servant Cedric is trying to steal my job.”

Gaius nodded, eyes focused on the old book before him.

“Gaius!”

The physician looked up, “I am sorry, my dear. But Arthur would not replace you, he depends on you too much. And he cares for you a great deal.”

Merlyn colored, Gaius had no idea.

‘Now, “ Gaius patted the table, “we have something far more pressing than servant rivalries. Has Arthur been back to the tomb since this morning?”

“No.”

“Good, I have been trying to convince the king to seal it up -- but i’m afraid he will not listen when their is so much wealth to be had.”

Merlyn glanced down at the book, “why?”

“Remember how I said that the sorcerer Sigan had been trying to make himself immortal? Well, I worried that he may have succeeded.”

Instantly Merlyn’s annoyance was gone.

“But I didn’t feel any magic when I was down there.”

Gaius only looked more concerned.

“This morning Morgana came here--”

“Morgana!” Merlyn’s blood went cold.

“Yes,” Gaius nodded, “she had a dream that a raven was attacking Camelot...if you did not notice yesterday, Sigan’s family crest is that of a raven.”

Merlyn shook her head, “but-but how?”

“According to his private records, he hoped to trap his soul inside an object. And when that object is touched by another, his soul will be released.”

Swallowing, Merlyn stared at the book again, “you think he succeeded.”

“His writings reveal his passion for the dark magics -- the very same that got him killed.”

Merlyn was surprised, “he was killed?”

Gaius nodded, “by King Ambrosius. Sigan was always a greedy man, but towards the end of his life he became someone to be feared. I myself grew up hearing tales of the evil sorcerer Sigan.”

Merlyn swallowed, “do you know what object he used? To put his soul into?”

The physician was silent for a moment, “At first I thought it was his family crest, but his writing says the object would have to be above the body for it to work.”

Merlyn recalled the plain stone casket, so out of place in a room stuffed full of riches. It’s only decoration a large blue jewel in the shape of a heart.

* * *

Arthur was quite pleased with the work Cedric was doing, his past few meals had been fit for the banquet hall. If this kept up Arthur would have to loosen his belt a few notches. He hoped at least Merlyn had gotten some rest and was in a better mood today. It was almost noon, however, and she had not appeared, which worried him. Flexing his arm, Arthur rubbed his shoulder absently. Hunting had been a much needed escape, but it had tried him a lot more than he thought. 

“Sire.”

Arthur smiled at her voice, looking up from his desk at the figure in the doorway. She wore her blue dress, hair down about her shoulders, belt cinched around her waist. She looked lovely.

“Hello, Merlyn.”

Coming towards him with a smile, her eyes flickered to the huge meal Cedric had not yet cleaned up. Her blue eyes never left his, and Arthur leaned back in his chair as she came around the desk. Leaning over him, Merlyn pulled his head into a deep kiss.

Arthur immediately responded, his hands finding her waist. But this was not like anything Arthur had felt, as Merlyn dominated his mouth with hers. Her lips were bruising, slowly sucking the life from his body. Arthur groaned, desire pooling in his veins. Until now he had been content to wait, knowing the seriousness of starting a sexual relationship with her, but now he was lost. Her hands combed through his hair, holding him captive and Arthur never wanted to leave. Gods he wanted her so badly. He wanted her now.

Merlyn pulled away just as suddenly and Arthur was left gasping for breath, trousers tight. She smiled at him, looking both innocent and dangerous at the same time.

“Merlyn.” Arthur gasped, pulling her closer.

“I just wanted to thank you for giving me the night off. And that I am sorry for my behavior.”

Swallowing, Arthur nodded dully.

Her hands traced his neck, drifting down to pull aside his shirt. Arthur’s passion only grew as she inspected his healed wound, eyes serious. She re-tied the ties of his shirt, and Arthur shivered.

“Sire, I must speak with you.”

Her hands were gentle but firm as she pulled his arms from her waist.

“What is it?”

Shifting in his chair, he was glad that the desk hid his lower half. Cedric could come back at any time. Not to mention his father was out for blood, and could very well come storming in. Running a hand through his hair, Arthur tried to pull himself together.

Merlyn bit her lip, “It is about the Sorcerer’s tomb. Gaius has found new information that says Sigan may have left an..a dangerous enchantment inside.”

Arthur shook his head, “If it is about the thief, I have men looking into it. Unfortunately the booby traps were as useless as the guards. Whoever it was managed to slip right by them...My father is questioning all the workers who discovered the tomb -- “

“It was Cedric.”

Arthur stared at Merlyn, “Cedric?”

“What was taken?” Merlyn’s voice was sharp.

Arthur shrugged, “not much. Gold, some jewels I think. Nothing too valuable.

“But the blue jewel, the large one on his tomb -- was that taken?"

“How did you know that?”

But Merlyn only swore.

“Gaius thinks there was an enchantment on that jewel. That it held the soul of Sigan!”

Arthur’s mood darkened; sorcery always made him nervous, “but immortality is impossible. Gaius said so himself...and what does this have to do with Cedric?”

“Sigan succeeded! With dark magic! And now he has possessed Cedric!”

Arthur shook his head, confused, “First you say that Cedric is the thief, and now he is also the spirit of a dead sorcerer?”

Merlyn nodded so adamantly, Arthur was compelled to believe her.

“Think about it Sire! Only you and the King have keys to that part of the dungeon - and the jewel was stolen last night -- when Cedric convinced you I needed the night off."

Arthur felt uneasy, that made more sense than any other theory. Was it truly Arthur’s fault? Had he let a thief into the castle? But the venom and jealousy in Merlyn’s voice made him pause.

“If Cedric was the thief, then why is he still here?”

Merlyn stared at him, “what?”

Arthur nodded to the table,“ he fed me this morning. Actually he should be back any minute. So if he were the thief why would he stay?”

Merlyn threw her arms in the air, “because he is not Cedric anymore! He’s Sigan!”

They stared at each other for a long moment, both turning to see the chamber door open.

Cedric, a basket full of clean linens, bowed as he entered. He grinned at them, easily ducking around a fuming Merlyn. Setting down the basket he began to strip the bed.

“Sire, would you like me to bring you your lunch?”

Arthur glanced at Merlyn, the betrayal on her face as clear as day. But, honestly, Cedric hardly looked like a dark sorcerer.

“Yes, Cedric. Thank you”

The man bowed again, but before he could fully straighten Merlyn had him by the throat.

“No! I won’t let you do this!”

Arthur lunged for her as she shoved the man back into the table, knocking over plates of uneaten food. Cedric looked terrified as Arthur pulled her off. She was shaking, still trying to get at the man.

“Merlyn! Calm down!” His shoulder twinged, but Arthur kept a tight grip, her strength surprising him.

“No! I wont let you hurt him!”

Somehow she managed to slip free, and Arthur could not catch her. With a yelp Cedric dove under his bed, and Merlyn scrambled right in after him.

“Merlyn!” Arthur yelled, more in shock than anything else.

“Sire, help!”

Running to the other side of the bed, Arthur could only stare as Cedric tried to pull himself free from Merlyn’s grasp. There was murder in her eyes.

With another yell she tackled the man, slamming his head on the floor.

Arthur could not believe what he was seeing.

“Guards!”

Instantly his chamber door opened, no doubt the yelling had brought them up from the staircase.

Sick to his stomach, Arthur pointed at the wrestling match, “arrest her.”

The guards pulled a terrified Cedric away, and Merlyn turned her gaze to Arthur. Her dress was filthy, hair a mess, but her eyes were heartbroken. As soon as the guards grabbed her, the fight seemed to leave her body.

“Arthur, please, I am trying to help you.” She whispered, tears falling down her red cheeks.

Shaking his head, Arthur felt his own heart breaking.

“Take her to the dungeons to cool off.”

Merlyn was silent as the guards carried her out of the room, but she might as well have been screaming. His shoulder throbbed, and he felt like throwing up. Arthur had just sent the girl he loved to the dungeon. How had this happened?

Movement from the floor, and Arthur watched Cedric pull himself to his feet.

“I’m sorry about that,” Arthur felt hollow, “I don’t know what came over her.”

Cedric dusted off his tunic, and stood up straight. The man chuckled to himself, then flashed Arthur a grin that was anything but warm. Arthur's blood went cold.

“You should have listened to her,“ Cedric whispered, and then everything went black.


	3. A Cold Heart III

Merlyn leaned against the dungeon wall, breathing in the foul air, trying to calm her racing heart. Near two years had passed and yet, here she sat in the same dirty cell as before, rubbing at her bruised knees. Her dress, the same blue dress, was dirty and torn at the hem from fighting with Sigan. A hysterical laugh slipped from her throat, and Merlyn rubbed at her eyes in frustration. It had been foolish of her to attack a dangerous sorcerer with nothing other than her fists. Maybe it had been jealousy, that Arthur had still chosen Cedric over her. Maybe that was why she had gotten so angry.

But he was not Cedric anymore.

Staring at the small barred window, Merlyn tried to guess the time of day. Arthur was in danger again, and she could not protect him from in here. And if she wasn’t so worried about his safety Merlyn would kill him herself.

She had seen the regret in Arthur’s eyes as the guards had taken her from the room, and a small part of her had forgiven him. A very small part. The rest of her body still hummed with anger. She shook her head, twirling a piece of hay in her fingers. She truly loved the prat. Even now, her cheeks flamed red as she recalled the kiss. His eyes had been glazed when she finally pulled away, and it had taken all her self control not to give in herself.

Merlyn wanted to yell at him, rip his clothes off and push him onto the bed. She wanted to kiss him so hard that he was left panting for breath, make him beg for it. And then maybe punch him again for being a stupid clotpole.

Yup, Merlyn was still angry.

She had woken Gaius in the middle of the night, after a surge of magic had disturbed her dreams. He had gone to investigate, but by then it was too late. The King was alerted, and the guard duty doubled. But Merlyn knew, as did Gaius, that this was far more than a simple thief. Whoever it was, they had stumbled into something far more dangerous. Sigan had risen again.

She had not made the connection until she had been back in Arthur’s chambers. Cedric had been trying too hard, playing the perfect servant and making her look bad. It was clear he was trying to gain her position as the Prince’s servant. But why?  

And then she had seen the sleeping mat tucked away outside of Arthur’s chambers, untouched since she had last used it. And it all made sense. A good con was based on trust after all.

The thief needed access to keys.

She had felt his magic before Sigan had even entered the room. It was like smoke, clogging the air, sending a shiver down her spine. And then he had grinned at them, an awful smug expression as he pretended to be Cedric.

Merlyn shook her head, throwing the hay past her boots. She had to stay focused. An evil sorcerer was inside Camelot disguised as a servant. It was only a matter of time before Sigan took his revenge on the city that had killed him.

 

* * *

Arthur woke with the sinking feeling that something was very wrong. Realizing he was laying on the floor, he slowly sat up. His head throbbed, his shoulder throbbed, but it was the shame flooding his veins that bothered him the most. Merlyn had been right about everything. And he had thrown her in the dungeons because of it.

Slowly climbing to his feet, Arthur rubbed at the back of his head. He needed to warn his father, the Knights, and the city.

He needed to apologize to Merlyn.

His chambers had grown dim, revealing just how long he had been unconscious. Running over to his gear, Arthur struggled to pull on his chainmail. His shield and sword glistened in the fading light, and he felt marginally better with them in his hands. He would sound the warning bell and find the knights--

A dark shadow flew past his window, and Arthur bolted to it. But he could not see anything, only the dark square below. A guard duty marched past, torches aloft as they did their round.

Then a scream echoed through the night, followed by another and another.

Running out of his chambers, Arthur prayed he was not too late.

* * *

Merlyn flung herself from the small window as smoke and debris poured into her cell. Dusk had fallen and then the screaming had begun. From what Merlyn could tell Sigan was ripping apart the castle. Huge blocks of stone slammed into the square, flew unnaturally into the opposite wall or rolled up the main staircase. Sigan was having fun with his new body, but it was only time before things grew dangerous.

A tingle of magic sent a shiver down her spine, and a screech sounded in the air.

Swearing, Merlyn ran back to the barred window, standing on her toes to see out into the night. People were shouting and screaming about something, but she could not be sure what was happening. The castle still seemed to be falling apart, but something new had the people even more frightened.

Gods, she had to get out of here!

Another boom shook the castle, and Merlyn heard the foundation crack. Yells from further down the dungeon caught her attention. They were shouts of joy. Running back to the bars of her cell, Merlyn watched a guard running down the corridor.

She watched, head straining up against the bars, as the guard fumbled to open a cell door, only to swear as he did.

“Alert!” The guard yelled, running back past Merlyn, “alert! Outer wall has broken and two prisoners have escaped!”

Eyes wide, Merlyn grinned and turned back into her cell. The barred window was only about a foot in diameter, but it would be enough. That was her ticket out of here.

Running back to the small window, Merlyn used her magic to pull a block of stone. It shot towards her like an arrow, and once again Merlyn dove for cover as debris and dust rained down upon her.

Coughing, Merlyn stared up at the gaping hole where the barred window had once looked out into the main courtyard. She could not be blamed for escaping her cell after being nearly crushed by a piece of castle wall. Guards shouted from inside the dungeon, but using the debris as a boost, Merlyn escaped before they could open her cell door.

Out in the night, she was unsurprised to find the city in chaos. A woman screamed, running into the nearest house, and Merlyn suddenly understood why. The same shiver of magic went through her body as a huge black figure dove down into the street.

Ducking into an alley, Merlyn watched as guards tried to attack the creature. Swallowing, she watched a guard throw a torch at it only to have the creature bat it away. But the torch light had illuminated the creature, and Merlyn understood why the castle had been falling apart.

Sigan had enchanted the stone gargoyles. The imposing statues that had perched atop the castle roof now screeched and dove through the city air, causing mayhem and fear. A knight dragged a bleeding man into the castle, and Merlyn went pale. Of course the knights would be out protecting Camelot, but it also meant Arthur was out here somewhere.

Another shiver of magic had her automatically send a blast of magic at the gargoyle above her. It howled in pain and dove away from her. That was the same spell that had killed the griffin. But the gargoyle still lived.

This was not good.

Peeking out into the courtyard, Merlyn watched as a crowd of people ran for the safety of the castle. A lone knight followed behind, searching the sky for the next attack.

It was Arthur.

* * *

He did not want to believe it, but these creatures who attacked the city like vultures to carrion were very real. And they were very dangerous. His search for Sigan had been quickly side-tracked as Arthur rescued trapped townsfolk and injured victims. The main hall had become a temporary hospital, and he led people to it as quick as he could. Injured or not, the stone castle was a safer place than their wooden houses, and so Arthur led his subjects through the chaotic city streets.

Yelling for the group to move quickly, Arthur glanced at the dark sky. He had not managed to kill any of the creatures, merely scare them off, and Arthur knew he needed to find Sigan soon. This madness would end with the sorcerer's death. It must.

A screech came from his right, and Arthur yelled again for the group to hurry. Not even twenty feet to safety but he had a duty to protect Camelot. His shoulder ached, and he had blood dripping in his eye from a cut, but Arthur ignored it all. He was a knight of Camelot, and they did not surrender.

Giving the group a last yell, Arthur ordered them on to the castle. Turning, he looked up into the dark sky, daring a creature to come near. There was a screech to his right, and Arthur turned, sword high. Guards further down the street shouted in fear, and Arthur risked glancing their way. A dark shadow descended upon him, and Arthur swore at his own foolishness.

For the second time Arthur found himself thrown to the ground. Someone had pushed him out of the way, and Arthur landed on top of them as the creature flew away with another piercing  screech.

“Merlyn!”

A dirty and angry Merlyn glared up at him.

“Arthur, you’re injured! You should not be out here!”

“Neither should you! How did you even get out?”

But Merlyn’s eyes stared above them, and grabbing his shoulders, rolled them out of the way. His head smashed on the cobblestone, but Arthur gripped Merlyn tightly and rolled with her. The crash of stone beside them left them both gasping. With an angry snarl the creature flew off in search of easier prey.

Arthur found now himself looking up to Merlyn as she sat on his waist. And despite the gravity of the situation, he quite liked this position.

Merlyn glared down at him, hitting him in the chest, “You! You threw me in there! How could you!”

“Merlyn, you were acting insane!”

Clenching his teeth, Arthur stared up into her blue eyes, “but I am sorry. You were right. You were right about everything. One of the workers admitted to my father that he had told his friend about the treasure-- and how to get it. That friend was Cedric.”

Arthur licked his lips, wanting desperately to kiss her, but fearing she would not appreciate it.

“I am truly sorry, Merlyn.”

Huffing in anger, the girl he loved avoided his gaze.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

The hurt in her voice had Arthur grabbing for her hand, and he pressed it to his lips.

Climbing off of him, Merlyn quickly pulled Arthur by his chain mail, rolling her eyes when he flinched in pain.

Merlyn shook her head, “You are still injured. Come on.”

Side by side they ran for the castle.

* * *

Glaring up at the dragon, Merlyn nodded in agreement. She had sworn never to come down here again, had sworn to never say these words. But right now the danger of Sigan was worse than the promise she was making.

“I-I promise to release you.”

If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he was grinning. The dragon stared at her, gloating or thinking of a solution, she could not tell.

When he finally answered, his words came out slowly.

“You tell me Sigan has mastered immortality. Therefore, that is where your solution lies.”

Exhausted and sore, Merlyn shook her head, “I don’t--I don’t understand.”

“His soul must have a body to exist - otherwise he is not truly alive. And a body of a common peasant will quickly wear out, but one with magic equal to his...” the dragon blinked at her, and she finally understood.

“You want him to try and take over my body.”

The dragon cocked his head to the side, “that is his weakness.”

Swallowing, Merlyn shook her head, “how would that make him weaker?”

“He needs a vessel. Give him one.”

Merlyn sighed. A vessel? What did that mean? Just for once she wanted the dragon to give a straightforward answer. Clenching her eyes shut, Merlyn tried to make sense of the riddle.

“You want me to trick him--by offering my body, but instead I will put his soul into another vessel?”

The dragon only blinked at her, as if waiting for her to figure it out.

And she did.

Gasping, Merlyn ran from the cave. But first she headed back towards Sigan’s tomb, hoping that the now empty jewel was still there.

* * *

“How can you defend him? He ignored your warnings and threw you in prison!”

Sigan stumbled toward her, clutching the gaping wound from Arthur’s sword.

“You are more powerful than him -- and yet you are content with being a lowly servant?” Sigan shook his head, “I could give you so much more. Our power would leave us vulnerable to no one. We would rule this land, and men like him,” he motioned to Arthur’s unconscious form, “would bow to us.”

Merlyn did her best to look afraid, letting Sigan’s ego do all the work. Cedric’s body was dying, Arthur had seen to that, and now she had to let Sigan figure out his only other option. Her.

“He treated you like dirt! And then he abandoned you for someone new! How can you still defend him!”

Merlyn grit her teeth. Sigan was playing on her anger, but it was not loyalty that kept her here. Risking a glance at Arthur’s crumpled form, she saw instead his body being thrown by the Questing beast. And in place of Sigan stood Nimue, offering promises that would never be.

“No,” she breathed, “I-I won’t abandon him.”

Sigan laughed, face pale from blood loss, “Is this love? Hiding your talents because you think he feels the same-- how very pathetic. I could teach you about magic. I could make you more powerful than you ever dreamed--”

He froze, and Merlyn took a hesitant step back.

“Or,” he whispered, “I could just take your power for myself.”

Gripping the jewel behind her back, Merlyn bit back a grin.


	4. In Plain Sight

The chamber door slammed open causing Merlyn to drop the tunic she was folding. Storming into the room Arthur immediately began shucking off his gear. He was always nervous before a tournament, but this was something else. She had not seen him this angry in a long time.

“How was jousting?”

Arthur shook his head, fumbling with the chain mail, “Sir Leon had the chance to unhorse me and he didn’t take it. Apparently all the knights go out of their way not to injure me. Can you believe it?”

Merlyn was hesitant to respond, instead helping Arthur pull off his chain mail, and yet that seemed to answer his question just the same. Arthur turned towards her, his expression an adorable amount of offense and confusion.

“I’m sure it’s not happening all the time,” Merlyn quickly tried to mollify him.

“So it’s happening some of the time?”

“No, I'm certain it isn't.”

Throwing his hands in the air, Arthur stormed away from her, “Now you're doing it! You're telling me exactly what you think I want to hear!

Exhaling, Merlyn watched Arthur pace back and forth.

“How am I supposed to know what people really think of me -- or prove myself if my opponents aren't trying their hardest? If everyone lets me win?”

“Sire, not everyone is letting you win. You have won many tournaments fair and square... you defeated Valiant and he was cheating with magic because he couldn’t beat you! And, um, you’ve fought off bandits and um -- Ealdor! You fought Kanen and his men, and they didn’t know you were a prince.”

Arthur nodded, but his eyes lingered out of the window, down where the stadium stood.

“Of course your own knights don’t want to hurt you...but that’s different,” she finished lamely. Biting her tongue, Merlyn continued to fold his clean laundry.

“When I was a boy I imagined running away to live with a family -- out in the lower town or maybe at a farm. I wanted so badly to be normal, and not be constantly fussed over and protected...to not have any responsibilities...or pressure to lead.”

He sighed, “Gods, I just want to be treated like everyone else. How lucky you are, Merlyn, to be normal.”

Rolling her eyes, Merlyn gave up folding, and walked over to where Arthur stood.

Coming up beside him, she took his hand, “Arthur, this is your life. And I can promise you, every single person down there dreams of living in a castle, and would happily switch places with you.”

“But they don’t know about all the responsibilities--”

Merlyn had to laugh, “And you think you know the life of a peasant? Waking at dawn every morning? Working all day for little pay? Knowing that if the crops fail your family will starve? Arthur, now you really are sounding like a spoiled prince.”

Squeezing her hand, Arthur’s smile was bashful, “I know, I know. But it shouldn’t matter who I am. And I do not expect any special treatment from you.”

Grinning, Merlyn stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the stadium below.

“No special treatment? Are you sure?”

This time Arthur’s smile was real, and he clasped his hands around her waist, pulling her close.

“Maybe just a little.”

She grinned into the kiss, glad she could cheer him a little.

Arthur pulled back suddenly, a glint in his eye,

“Wait, what did you say?”

* * *

 DAY 1

Riding out with the two guards, Arthur could barely hide his excitement. He would compete in the tournament as an unknown and he would win solely by his talent and skill. It was a perfect plan.

Pulling Archimedes to a halt, Arthur handed the guards a bag of coin for their journey. The two men had family in the north, whom they were eager to see. They would keep his cover and return in four days, meeting him back here in the forest. Dismounting, he tied Archimedes to the guards saddle, and took off on foot.

Arthur found Merlyn sitting under a tree, looking far less excited.

“Come on, Merlyn, this is going to be great!”

But the girl he loved only pursed her lips, pulling from a bag a shabby tunic and cloak. She had only agreed to help on one condition, that while she was obviously still his servant, he could not give her orders. If was to pretend to be her equal, he had to act like it.

Slipping out of his own tunic, Arthur eagerly put on this new identity.

“Do I look the part?”

He grinned at Merlyn.

“Here,” Ruffling his hair, Merlyn looked him over with a studious eye, “better. Now let’s get this over with.”

Turning, she headed back to the castle, and Arthur hurried to keep up. Merlyn was less excited about this experiment, but he hoped that would change. What she had not realized was that it would give them time alone, and Arthur knew she was still hurt about Sigan. And he would make it up to her. And if this identity meant he could woo Merlyn like any other couple in Camelot, Arthur would forfeit the tournament right now.

...Well, he wouldn’t care so much if he lost.

“How are the preparations coming along? Have we found someone to play our knight in the tournament?”

Merlyn nodded, “yes, a man from a nearby village. He is meeting us at Gwen’s.”

Arthur pulled up his hood as they stepped back out onto the road. His stomach felt like it was a boiling cauldron, about to overflow. He had not been this excited since he had participated in his very first tournament. Merlyn thought he was crazy, but Arthur had to prove this to himself. He had to know that he deserved the praise he was given.

“And you found me lodging as well?”

Merlyn nodded to the guards at the gate, eyes straight ahead as she answered.

“Too risky. And besides, you might pass as a commoner but you certainly can’t act like one. Gwen and I thought of a better plan.”

“Oh?”

“You will be staying at Gwen’s house, lots of townsfolk rent their houses out during festivities, so it won’t look odd. Gwen will stay with Morgana in the castle.”

Arthur paused, “I will be alone?”

Merlyn nodded, turning down an alley, “just at night.”

There was an edge to her voice, confirming to Arthur that she knew exactly what he was asking. In the weeks since the incident with Sigan, Merlyn’s good mood would vanish suddenly with a look of betrayal, and Arthur knew why. He knew better than to invite her to stay.

But still, Arthur could not remember the last time he had ever been all alone. There were always guards not far from his bedroom, and even when he bathed Merlyn was in the room. Hunting too, was done with Merlyn or his knights. Every activity he could think of, Arthur had at the very least been watched over by someone.

But having a place completely to himself, that was an unexpected bonus added to his plan. He would truly be a free man this next few days.

“Arthur, keep up,” Merlyn flashed him a grin as she easily made her way through the growing crowded of people.

Pulling his cloak tight, Arthur quickened his step, surprised at how casually people bumped or pushed him out of the way. An old woman muttered to herself as she shoved herself around him, a bony elbow catching him in the side. Stumbling over a tossed basket, Arthur tried to apologize only to get shoved to the side by a man twice his girth. Trying to keep his hood around his face, Arthur felt like a stick being swept away in the current.

Someone grabbed his hand, and Arthur relaxed as Merlyn easily pulling him through the crowd. Pulled beside a stall of fabrics, he tried to quell the embarrassment rising in his stomach.

But Merlyn only shook her head at the mass of people, “It’s like this every time there is a tournament or festival. Don’t worry,” she teased, “most of them are as lost as you are.”

Before he could respond, she pulled him back into the crowd, weaving through them like a needle. When they at last turned into a side street Arthur was ready for a drink.

Stopping in front of a tiny house with a slouching roof, Merlyn dropped his hand,

“You ready, Sire?”

* * *

Arthur strode into the tent, and Merlyn quickly took his shield and helmet. Stabbing his sword into the grass, Arthur grinned at her,

“Sir Marcus needs to work on his footwork. But I had no doubts that I could beat him. Or Sir Owen. But swordplay has always come easy to me.”

His grin was like a child with a bag of sweets, and Merlyn’s heart fluttered in response.

Swords clashed outside as the next fight began and William ducked back inside the tent, taking the credit for Arthur’s success.

“How is Sir Logan doing?”

William only looked confused.

Arthur shook his head, “never mind. After this match you go back out and the King will ask all the winners to take a bow. Then you are invited up to the castle for a feast.”

William grinned.

Gwen had offered to help dress both men, which Merlyn was incredibly grateful for, but it also meant she could not congratulate Arthur as she wished.

She wanted to apologize for her bad mood.

Merlyn had been doubtful about Arthur’s plan since the beginning, but realized now that she had been worried for him. He could be incredibly naive, and she was not she was not sure which outcome she feared more. Either Arthur lost his confidence and his pride, or his ego would become even more inflated and he would learn nothing. It would be the unicorn trials all over again.

But now she saw the true effects this new identity had given him. Merlyn had always been impressed with how well he managed the responsibilities and pressure of the crown. But looking at him now, she saw a man who was free of all that. A weight was lifted from him, and she was only just seeing its effects. The tournament was not about proving his abilities as a knight, but proving his sincerity as a person, with or without a title. And she had doubted him.

Still high from the latest win, Arthur paced the tent, not bothering to remove his gear. It was adorable, and if possible, she fell a little more in love with him. But Gwen and William were still here and she had to remain professional. So she forced Arthur to stand still, undoing the straps of his gorget.

Perhaps it was her change of heart, but there was another reason she wanted the tent to be empty. Pulling off his sweaty gear, Merlyn could not help but feel a terrible urge take hold. It was a shameful and embarrassing secret, but she enjoyed Arthur with a bit of sweat on him. No doubt he would tease her about her peasant inclinations, but it was nonetheless true. No different than when he returned from a hunt, or a long patrol, and the days activities still lingered on his skin. He smelled like a real person for once. And Merlyn wanted him.

His chain mail was the last to come off, and Merlyn let her hands linger a bit too long as she held down his tunic. But Arthur, brushing back his sweaty hair, had not noticed.

The sound of trumpets had them all look to their right. The tournament had ended for the day, Gwen shoved William outside, whispering instructions.

“Go, go! To the center --with the other knights!”

Turning back, she pulled the tent flap shut, “Sir Logan lost to Sir Elyan of Burgundy.”

Arthur watched William leave, nodding absently.

Handing him a damp towel, Merlyn organized his armor, wondering what was bothering him. He wiped at his face and neck, catching her eye.

“Gwen, you should hurry back to Morgana before she comes looking.”

With a quick curtsy, the maid ducked out of the tent and the two were alone again.

Instantly his hands pulled her to him, and she felt her cheeks turn red.

“Arthur, we need to get you out of here --”

He ignored her, instead nuzzling her neck, “not yet.”

Maybe he had noticed.

Hands gripped her waist, and Merlyn could not help but gasp as he attacked her throat. Leaning her head to the side, Arthur kissed and nibbled at her neck, pulling her lower body flush against his. Biting back a moan, Merlyn let her hands slip under his tunic, finally allowed to explore his muscled back. His mouth slowly made it’s way from her collarbone, back to her face, and she eagerly kissed his back. They stayed like that, pressed together, ignorant of the tournament around them.

Arthur, she could tell, was still high from his win, and she was trying to apologize. Both battling for control, their kisses became fiercer, and soon both were panting for a different reason. Her veins glowed hot, and she was at once nervous and excited. And this time Arthur did not pull away as he had before. His hands gripped her tightly, and she wished suddenly that they were someplace far more private.

Pushing Arthur back against the table where his gear lay forgotten, they grinned as a gauntlet fell to the grass. It was a small thing, the fallen glove, but it was enough to make them pause. Biting her lip, she smiled up at Arthur, and he nodded in understanding.  His hot breath tickled her ear, and she tried to steady her racing heart.

With a heavy sigh, Arthur leaned his forehead against hers. Merlyn tried to ignore the fire in her veins but instead found herself inches from his neck. He had wiped at the sweat earlier, but she could still see it shining on his skin. Her mouth went dry. But before she could lean forward Arthur was spinning her out of his grasp.

“Come on, Merlyn,” he grinned, reaching for his cloak, “let’s find some food.”

* * *

Stumbling into Gwen’s dark house, Arthur grinned drunkenly; he could not remember having a better day in his life. Yesterday he had been nervous before the opening event, worried that his deception would be discovered or that he would fail. But now, with three events down, Arthur felt unbeatable. He would win this tournament, of that he had no doubt. And when he revealed his identity to the crowd, neither his knights or his father would ever doubt him again.

Slipping off his smelly peasant's tunic, Arthur collapsed on the bed, and his thoughts drifted towards the woman who had just left. She too was the reason for his good mood.

With the afternoon off from Gaius, Merlyn had taken Arthur around the city, showing him how the other half celebrated. He had spent many hours with the people, but never like this. And unlike the day before, the jostling of the crowds was further proof of his invisibility. His subjects shoved and laughed at their crown prince, and Arthur reveled in it. The gaiety of the crowd, celebrating simply because they could, was more intoxicating than the cheap ale Merlyn had bought. Dinner was from the many carts selling roasting meats and pies, all of which Arthur wanted to try. A patrol had marched by and they ducked into an alley, laughing like naughty children avoiding their chaperone.

Tournaments and banquets had always been formal events where, even at his most relaxed, Arthur was always representing the crown. Merlyn seemed to understand, having served Arthur at many of those events, and he caught her smiling proudly whenever he made a fool of himself.

Walking hand in hand like any other couple, enjoying the festivities, Arthur felt that same stirring in his chest. Freedom tasted far better than he had imagined, and he didn’t want to let it go.

It was hours later when Merlyn pulled herself from his embrace. They had sat on the steps outside of Gwen’s house, watching the sun sink behind the castle. The empty jug of ale lay at their feet, and it had made both of them sleepy. Holding her close, his eyes drifting shut, Arthur worried he was already dreaming.

Their goodnight kiss had left both of them panting, but Arthur could wait. Gods he wanted her, he wanted every part of her. And Merlyn wanted him, he could see it in her eyes.

Arthur didn’t want her to leave, and by the way she lingered in his arms, neither did Merlyn. But, she reminded him, his disguise was far from perfect, and many of the castle servants lived in the area. Gaius too would be waiting for her return, and so Arthur relented.

Whispering her name into the empty darkness, the crown prince of Camelot fell asleep.

 


	5. In Plain Sight II

DAY 2

Arthur had not enjoyed his second night alone as much as the first. Merlyn had left him with a small supper, but then had to return and help Gaius prepare for the next day’s events. Arthur had been on his own as night fell, and quickly realized how boring it was. His body double was currently in the castle at the King’s feast and even the lower city seemed to be in celebration -- but he could not go to either.

The day had followed with three more events for ‘William of Daria’ all which Arthur won with little effort. He was a natural fighter, and the rush of competition made his blood run hot. But he could not celebrate it. After each event he was not even allowed to feel the cheering crowd, but instead had to rush back into the tent.

Arthur had wandered the streets for the remainder of the day, waiting for Merlyn to arrive and distract him. But while her company usually soothed his nerves, he still felt hollow. Arthur should have been happy. He should have been ecstatic that his plan was working so well. But instead he saw the shameful truth.

He missed the cheering, he missed the celebration in his honor. The rush of the fight could only be outdone by the cheer of the crowd. His second night as a nobody was plaguing him with doubts. Rolling over in Gwen’s tiny bed, Arthur knew sleep was eluding him. Was he truly so vain that he needed the recognition of the crowds? Was that the true colors he was made of? Sighing in frustration, Arthur tried desperately to think of anything else.

Tomorrow, he prayed, would be better.

* * *

 DAY 3

Arthur stared out where ‘William of Daria’ stood and bowed for the crowd,

“When I win this tournament it will be me getting that applause...it will all change when I reveal my true identity.”

Merlyn rolled her eyes, he had been muttering some version of that statement all morning. Winning had done nothing to cheer his mood. They had sent William out to take credit for the win, and Arthur’s good mood had vanished. It seemed three days was enough for the excitement of his new identity to wear out.

He had decided to join Merlyn in the stadium and watch the earlier matches, and the applause and thrill of the fights had seeped back into his skin. Arthur craved attention, he lived for the spotlight -- and with his next win secured, Arthur was impatient for his big reveal. Merlyn was hurt, and not completely sure why.

Watching him pace back and forth like a caged animal was making her teeth clench, and so she slipped out of the tent, leaving Gwen to deal with the prince. He had not noticed.

Dear, sweet Gwen was her one lifeline - keeping her calm and also forcing Merlyn to remain professional. It was a lucky break for Arthur as well - he just didn’t know it yet.

Merlyn felt tears pricking at her eyes, and she clenched her teeth to keep them from falling. The crowds were boisterous and celebratory, but Merlyn shoved her way through them, heading to the stables. Maybe it was because she was overworked and sleep deprived. Maybe it was because yesterday when she had woken with a hangover Gaius had dared to call her lazy. Whatever the reason, she was angry - and if he wasn’t careful, Arthur was going to feel the brunt of it.

Argos knickered as she neared his stall, and she leaned heavily against his door. He lipped at her sleeve, and she nodded in response. The stable boys had left a saddle and reins outside of the door, and heaving them into her arms she slipped inside. The stable was packed with horses, the air thick with the heavy horse aroma, and so it was no surprise to anyone when she continually rubbed at her face.

In a small box hidden in the hay, Merlyn pulled out the faded purple caparison that she and Gwen had hastily added the fake crest of ‘William of Daria’. Argos shuffled under the cape, but let her smooth it over his neck and face without fuss.

Maybe she was tired of taking orders. Maybe it was because she felt unappreciated. Or maybe she too had gotten caught up in Arthur’s experiment. Maybe she was frustrated in a way that only Arthur could solve if only she was brave enough to show him. Not that he was paying her any attention today.

The saddle was last to go on, and Argos snorted as she tightened the girth and attached the front armor. He knew when she finished, and kicked playfully at the stable doors, ready to go. His eagerness brought a smile to her face, and she took a calming breath.

Leading a newly disguised Argos, Merlyn headed back to the stadium, letting the sun warm her face. She was mad about Arthur’s behavior, but it was more than that - she was sad that this could not last. Yesterday had been amazing, and now she ached for its return.

“Aren’t you the Prince’s servant?”

Merlyn turned in surprise. A large man grinned down at her, shaved head glistening in the hot sun. He was dressed in plain clothes, holding a stick of fried food, and she prayed to the gods he was not trying to flirt. She was not in the mood.

“So where is the good prince? I have not yet seen him perform in the tournament.”

Exhaling through her nose, Merlyn fell into her obedient servant persona.

“Unfortunately the prince had to be away these few days, and I do not know when he will return. At his command I stayed behind to help with the tournament.”

“Is that his horse?”

“One of them,“ Merlyn answered slowly, ”The castle always lends horses to any knight who needs one.”

“I see, I see“ the man nodded, “I take it you do not like your master.”

Her step faltered, “what?”

The man motioned to the purple caparison Argos wore.

“Oh, him, “Merlyn sighed, “Between you and me, I think he is a spoiled prat. Now if you will excuse me, I must return to the stadium.”

The man was still smiling, but Merlyn turned away before he could ask anymore impertinent questions. No doubt she would be yelled at for her tardiness because of it.

* * *

Marching into the tent, Arthur shook off his sweaty gloves, and tossed his helmet onto the grass. His shoulder and back were sore, but it was his mind that had taken the most beating. His opponent, a lesser son of a nobleman, had caught Arthur the first round, and sent him flying.

Thrown from Argos, and landing on the dirt field had left him in shock. He could not recall the last time he was thrown, and the gasp from the crowd made his face burn under his helmet. Laying in the dirt, trying to force the air back into his lungs, Arthur was humiliated.

He had won the match but that had done little to chase away the mass of emotion in his chest.

A shadow ducked into the tent, and Gwen dipped her head when their eyes met. Quickly she got to work undoing his armor, “Well done, Sire, you will be in the finals tomorrow, I’ve no doubt.”

Arthur grunted, pulling the chain mail over his head.

“Where is Merlyn.”

“She should be here any moment, she had to assist Gaius.”

Taking the towel Gwen offered him, he strode over to the small table and poured himself a glass. It was water, warm from sitting out, and not nearly refreshing enough. His stomach grumbled but the bread and cheese plate was not what he wanted. Rolling his shoulders to ease the ache, Arthur wiped the towel around his neck. William, no doubt, was off to the castle to celebrate the win, and Arthur’s blood boiled. He was the one beat up and sweaty, he was the one who deserved the recognition.

The crowd cheered again, and Arthur grit his teeth. He wanted to be as far from the stadium as possible.

“Tell Merlyn that I will require a bath tonight, and that she should find me back at the house. I want to rest.”

Pulling his cloak from the table, Arthur swung it onto his shoulders. Where the devil was Merlyn?

“Um, Sire?”

Arthur glanced at the maid.

“Um, Sire, I am very sorry, but I do not own a bathtub.”

Exhaling through his nose, Arthur tried to quell the frustration in his chest.

“Alright, I presume you have a bowl I can use to wash up?”

Gwen nodded, “of course, Sire. I will, um, go set that up for you now.”

She ducked out of the tent, and Arthur stared down at his sweaty and dirty armor. His back throbbed, and Arthur rolled his shoulders again. the back of his head, now freed from his helmet had begun to throb as well, and he rubbed it carefully. He needed to lie down, if only to stop picturing the joust.

“I’m here.”

Turning, Arthur watched Merlyn duck inside, and he felt a little better. Tucking back a lose strand of hair, she glanced around the empty tent.

“Where’s Gwen?”

“She went to prepare a bath for me...or some form of a bath at least.”

Merlyn’s eyes went wide, “what? She is not your servant, why would you make her do that?”

Arthur shrugged, which only aggravated his sore back, “She offered.”

Crossing her arms, Merlyn glared at him, “of course she offered! You’re the prince! She couldn’t say no!”

Arthur clenched his jaw, headache flaring.

“I am going back to rest and clean up. Clean and polish my gear and bring it back to the house with my supper.”

“No.”

Arthur froze, not quite sure what he had heard. But Merlyn’s expression only confirmed it.

The air in the tent might as well have been a winter storm as the chill in Arthur’s veins went well past rage. But that damn spark of anger was in Merlyn’s eyes, and she pushed her way into the very center of that storm.

“You promised me,” her voice was full of betrayal, “you promised me that if you did this, if you competed as a “nobody”, that I was not to be your servant. You promised that you would treat me as an equal. That is the only reason I agreed to this!

“But even that was too much for you! Not two days you have lived among us ‘common folk’ and you are back to your old arrogant self. Gods, Arthur! Do you have any idea what this weekend has been like for me? How much more I have had to work because you wanted to have a little adventure? And if anything were to happen, I would be the one punished. Me! Gods, have you considered that at all?

She had shoved him several times in anger as she yelled. And Arthur let her, angry and ashamed as he was, her words had frozen him in place. She had started crying, and her fingers jabbed into his chest again, hitting the sore spot where the pole had caught him.

Flinching out of her reach, Arthur stupidly let his anger out.

“Shut up, Merlyn!”

“No, I won’t! Not until you listen. Because I wanted to help, but not if you are going to act like this -- ordering Gwen around when she had her own duties to attend to! And to make her do chores in her own home! How could be so rude? You haven’t once thanked her for lending her your home - and now you insult her hospitality because she cannot afford a bathtub for your spoiled arse? How dare you!

“And of course everyone treats you differently! You’re the prince! No matter what clothes you wear, you are still the prince! That’s how this damn world works!”

Nose to nose, Arthur wanted nothing more than to throw her in the stocks, but she only grinned - the evil grin that meant she knew what he was thinking.

“What are you gonna do, call daddy’s men? But that would give away your big secret, wouldn’t it?”

“Get. Out.”

Arthur’s fist throbbed with his racing heart, and he held it tight against his body, afraid of the part of him that wanted to strike. She was right. She was completely right. But she was pushing him too far.

“Get out!” he yelled.

"Fine!"

Hair flying, Merlyn turned and marched from the tent. Sick to his stomach, Arthur stared at the flattened grass below his feet trying to slow his raging heart. Letting out a frustrated yell, Arthur yanked up the hood of his cloak. Marching out of the tent, Arthur headed to the forest.

* * *

It was dusk before Merlyn finally headed to Gwen’s house. After a few hours yelling and crying, Gaius had finally calmed her down. The poor man had apologized for over-working her, but that just made her feel worse. She was exhausted and had let her emotions run wild, which had only pushed Arthur further away. Falling in love was far more complicated than she thought. And although it went against every fiber of her being, Merlyn knew she had to mend Arthur’s ego. She had to apologize - again.

Knocking on the door, Merlyn slipped inside to find Arthur lying on the bed with a towel over his face.

“Arthur?”

Immediately he sat up, blue eyes calmer than when she had last seen them.

But his chest caught her attention, the purple bruise covering his left rib cage.

“Arthur!”

Running to his side, she pushed aside his arm, examining the bruise with gentle fingers. He flinched under her touch, but Merlyn could not see any evidence of cracked ribs.

“I can go get some leaches from Gaius, and then a poultice--”

“No.” Arthur’s voice was quiet, and she slowly looked up into his light blue eyes.

“They will help with the swelling, at least let me--”

Grabbing her hand, Arthur shook his head, “I will be fine. I just need rest.”

Sighing, Merlyn nodded, leaning her head into his shoulder, “You’re lucky. Gaius has five knights all with broken ribs. You caused two of them.”

Suddenly nervous, Merlyn tried to focus on his heartbeat, quickly losing confidence in what she came to say.

“Um, Arthur...I want to--”

“Not now, Merlyn,” he sounded tired, “Let’s...let’s just eat dinner and relax. We can save the yelling for after I’ve eaten.”

Merlyn smiled, having missed the sound of his voice these past few hours. He was giving her a way out, though she didn’t deserve it. But he too seemed to be in a different mind-set. Perhaps he felt just as guilty.

Nodding slowly, Merlyn pulled herself from his hold, “alright, I will go fetch some food.”

His hands gripped her tightly for a moment, and then it was him jumping from the bed.

“I’ll do it,” he grinned, “I’ll make dinner.”

She stared at him, trying not to laugh, “what?”

“Yes, I will make you dinner. As a...a peace offering. You know, a normal meal that normal people eat.”

His expression was foolish and giddy, such a contrast to the man in the tent, that Merlyn had to agree.

“Ok, you make dinner.”

Arthur grinned, grabbing for his tunic and cloak.

Merlyn sat on the bed, a powerful emotion beating inside her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had not been my friend--that's why this took so long. And I'm still not happy with it...  
> Also, I changed the days around from the last chapter -- a minor change but I thought it was needed.  
> anywayz,  
> I promise the next chapter will be soon (and totally worth the wait)! THX


	6. In Plain Sight III

The smell of food woke Merlyn, and she blinked sleepily until Gwen’s house came back into focus. Sitting up, Merlyn smoothed back her hair; she hadn’t meant to fall asleep. She had just lied down for a moment.

Arthur was nowhere to be seen, but the house was lit up in candles, and the table set for two. It was all rather domestic, and it made Merlyn’s heart warm at the sight. Arthur had done this?

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

The door opened and Arthur pulled back his hood, a bottle of ale in his hand.

“Come on, let’s eat.”

He grinned at her, waving her to the table. Standing, Merlyn went over, watching him pour the ale into two mugs. He waited for her to sit, then immediately dug into his plate of potatoes and beef. Her own plate smelled amazing, and yet Merlyn couldn’t eat yet. She had to say it, she had to apologize.

“Arthur, I’m sorry.”

The prince of Camelot, looked up from his food, smile fading.

Setting down his fork, Arthur nodded, “I know you are. And...and I am equally at fault, so I am sorry too.”

Picking up his fork, Arthur went back to his meal.

Merlyn stared at him. He was just letting it go? She had said horrible things to him, how could he not be angry?

“But...but Arthur, everything I said -- I was just frustrated and tired and I-I took it out on you. It wasn’t fair and I’m so sorry. I want to make amends”

“Merlyn, I know.” He sighed, clearly wanting her to be quiet. Arthur was hurt, of that she was sure. Had she really gone too far this time? Was this a peace offering or a goodbye?

His blue eyes seemed to glow in the candlelight, and yet Merlyn could not help the fear envelop her heart. Grabbing her fork, Merlyn began to eat, despite her stomach being in knots. It was delicious, and Merlyn wished she could enjoy it more. She had seen Arthur roast a rabbit over the fire, but that was more necessity on long patrols, there was little art to it. She wanted to ask, but clearly he wanted silence.

Forcing down some more bites, Merlyn tried not to stare at him. The ale was bitter but Arthur seemed to enjoy it, pouring more for himself every few moments. She would get him to talk, but if he wanted silence, then she could give that too.

Or not.

“Arthur, please! Just talk to me!”

Looking up in surprise, Arthur immediately tried to hide a grin. Shaking his head, Arthur controlled his features as best he could. He was enjoying this!

“Arthur!”

Hands raised in surrender, Arthur broke out in a guilty smile, “alright, alright. I’m listening.”

Swallowing, Merlyn crossed her arms, not sure if he was still teasing, “what was that about?”

“Just a little test,” Arthur toasted her with his mug, “to see if you can in fact obey my orders.”

Merlyn was frozen in shock, tears pricking at her eyes. She couldn’t breathe.

“You bastard!” her body was shaking, “You let me just worry and think I had really hurt you! I thought you...I thought...” Merlyn tried to from words, but they were trapped in her throat. Angry tears fell down her face, and she gasped for breath. What was happening?

Seeing her reaction, Arthur jumped up from the table and ran to her side.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pressed his hand onto her chest, “breathe, Merlyn, breathe.”

Shocked by her own reaction, she pressed herself further into his embrace. His hand, firm on her chest, was reassuring, but not enough. Gasping for breath, Merlyn tried to focus on Arthur’s scent. Heart beating out of her chest, Merlyn knew she had to risk it.

Closing her eyes, she used a calming spell, something she only ever used on animals. But the effect was instant, and Merlyn finally sighed in relief.

Arthur noticed the change, pulling her face up to his, “are you alright?”

Nodding, Merlyn wiped the tears off her face.

Reaching for her mug, Merlyn gulped down the ale, giving her a moment to herself. What in the world had come over her? Merlyn stared down at her plate, Arthur’s arms still about her waist. Gods he was going to drive her insane. Setting down the mug, Merlyn noticed something odd. Pushing aside the uneaten potatoes, Merlyn felt like laughing. There, on the plate, was the crest of Camelot. These plates were from the castle kitchens.

“Arthur...”

“Yes, Merlyn, what is it?” He was still worried, hands tightening around her waist.

“Arthur, these plates are from the castle.”

His abashed expression was all the answer she needed. Collapsing back into his embrace Merlyn burst out laughing.

* * *

It was not the reaction Arthur had been expecting. And yet, Merlyn with her head thrown back in laughter, was far better than he could have hoped. A moment ago she was gasping for breath in panic, and now she laughed as if she would never stop.

Of course she would have caught him on his lie. Embarrassed and fighting back a grin, Arthur grabbed her mug and swallowed the liquid in one gulp.

“Merlyn.”

Catching his eye, Merlyn tried to stifle her laughter. His embarrassment was turning to annoyance- it wasn’t that funny.

Wiping tears from her eyes, Merlyn grinned at him, “I’m sorry, Arthur. I just--I don’t even know why it surprised me. But gods, I was mad at you all day for being a spoiled prince and then you go and do this!”

Reaching for the ale, Arthur filled Merlyn’s mug, fully aware that he was pouting.

“Hey,” her hand clutched at his arm, but he avoided looking at her. He tried to shake her off, but her hand only pulled him closer.

“Listen to me, please?”

Tugging his hand away from the mug, Merlyn took it her hands, and his body betrayed him. Once he met her blue eyes, Arthur was lost. Her face was red from laughter, but the laughter was gone. Her fingers traced the veins on his hand,

“I’m sorry, Arthur, for my behavior this morning. And not just because I was rude to you, but because you are the prince and I should not speak to you that way.”

Instantly Arthur had her by the shoulders, “No, Merlyn. Don’t, please. I don’t want us to be like that ---and I know I have much to learn. There are some things that I am terrible at -- cooking being one of them. And...and listening to people who are only trying to help.”

Merlyn shook her head, “But I’m at fault too! I was expecting too much from you. This is a completely new experience and I should have been more sensitive to that.”

She flashed a small smile, “Your pride gets in the way sometimes, but that is not a bad thing. You would not be a good ruler of you had no pride or confidence.”

Arthur’s chest was tight, but he grinned back at her, “do you mean stubbornness?”

Merlyn clutching his hand tightly, “I think we both are guilty of that one, Sire.”

Leaning forward, Arthur kissed her gently.

“I liked having you to myself,” Merlyn whispered, when they pulled away, “and I liked how happy you were. And I then I got hurt because this couldn’t last.”

Arthur glanced around at their surroundings, “I know what you mean. At first, I just wanted to win the tournament -- I wanted to prove that I could do it. But I got caught up in it too. And...and I didn’t realize how hard it was. All of it. Living like a commoner.”

Merlyn snickered.

Motioning around them, Arthur shrugged, “I mean look at this place -- Gwen’s house is smaller than my chamber! And I thought being on my own would be fun-- but I’ve never been so bored! There was nothing for me to do than sharpen my sword. And Sleep? How could I sleep in that uncomfortable bed? It took me ages! And then some damn bird started hollering at dawn! --Yes, I know it was a rooster! And then the whole city decided to wake up, and it was like a damn theater production outside my door! I haven’t been clean in days, this shirt itches and I burned myself on that candle and I don’t know how to cook.  Or even--”                 

Merlyn’s snort interrupted his rant, and Arthur blushed. So maybe he still had a few complaints. Running a hand through his dirty hair, Arthur shoved her playfully.

“I know, I know I’m a spoiled prince. But that’s why I need you around to tell me when I’m being stupid. Before I met you no one else dared to do that. You were one of the few people who didn’t care about my title -- if anything I think you hated me more because of it.”

“I didn’t hate you,” A finger poked his side, “I just thought you were a stupid prat.” 

Grinning, Arthur pulled his gaze away, staring at their forgotten dinner. Gods, she meant so much to him. It almost hurt to think about because after tomorrow they would have to go back to hiding. Perhaps it was the cheap ale, but Arthur felt a twinge of sadness in his chest. He didn’t want to hide anymore.

* * *

“Obviously I’m not very good at being normal.”

Merlyn leaned into his shoulder, all too aware of the mood change. Watching Arthur talk, watching him be so open-- gods, it was ripping her apart. She wanted to comfort him, for whatever it was that had made him sad.

“I wanted it to be real too,” She whispered.

Arthur stiffened, and she glanced up at his face, seeing the realization coming over it. It was there again, that weight of his title, and it seemed to age him before her eyes.

Merlyn waited, familiar with how easily Arthur could get lost in his thoughts. But when he finally did speak, he surprised her.

“Do you know why I gave Cedric a chance? Why I took him on?”

Merlyn went cold. Why was he bringing up that?

But Arthur, hands folded on the table, didn’t look at her, “I had this insane thought that if I got another servant. That you could get another job. And--”

A cold wind settled in her bones, and Merlyn only shook her head, “So you did mean to replace me?”

Running a hand through his hair, Arthur sighed, “No, I mean, yes--but hear me out. I thought that if you worked for Morgana or just any other job that maybe I could-we could--”.

Pushing away from the table, Merlyn stared out the dark window. She felt sick.

“You’re ashamed of me being a servant?”

The bench scraped against the floor, and she felt Arthur’s hand on her shoulder, “No! I don’t want you to be a servant because you are better than that! You deserve more!”

Merlyn jerked away from his hand, spinning back around, “there is no shame in being a servant! Or a commoner!”

Arthur clenched his fist, “I know! But I thought that if you had another position... we wouldn’t have to hide.”

Merlyn felt a pressure building in her chest, but what came out was a harsh laugh, “Oh, I see. Then your father and the court would approve of me? That at least your tryst was with a ladies maid and not a girl who wears trousers?? But you forget -- I would still be a servant.”

“Merlyn listen to me, I’m not saying it wasn’t a terrible idea. But I just think you could be so much more!”

Magic pricked at her fingers, and she just barely held it in. How dare he!

That’s not how it works, Arthur. You know that! Oh, how easy it was for you to become a commoner for a few days. Just put on some old clothes and it’s done. But what about the other way around? It can’t be done. Not for pretend and certainly not for real! I couldn’t just get to have a title, become a Lady.”

“Yes you could.”

Merlyn froze, and instantly all of the anger evaporated from her veins. She knew by the look on Arthur’s face, what he was saying. And it broke her heart. Even in her wildest dreams there was never a chance of that happening. She was a servant. A peasant. It was not her destiny.

But Arthur stepped toward her, like he did when stalking a deer, hand outstretched.

“You could become a member of the court.”

She swallowed, taking a step back, “Arthur...”

The door slammed open and Gwen, panting, quickly shoving the door closed behind her.

“Sire,” she bowed quickly, “Sire, there is an assassin in Camelot. For you!”

* * *

 “Explain.”

Arthur didn’t know how to feel.

But as he listened to Gwen recount what she had heard from Morgana, Arthur felt the strength seep from his bones. Even hiding out as a peasant wasn’t enough to keep his destiny at bay. He was so tired of it all.

“They believe he was sent by King Odin--”

“Oh gods.”

Arthur sat heavily on the bench, head in his hands. It made perfect sense. It had been several years since the tournament when Arthur had mortally wounded King Odin’s son. Had the boy lived he would have been 18, old enough now to try out for the Knights. Of course his father would seek revenge now.

And as for the assassin? Arthur knew the name. And Myror was very skilled at his job.

A gasp, had Arthur at full alert, and he leaped to his feet, hand on his dagger.

But it was only Merlyn, hands over her mouth, “Oh, gods, Arthur I saw him. I saw him today.”

Arthur’s blood boiled,“What?”

“I-I was coming to the stadium with Argos and um, a man stopped me. He knew that I was your servant and that Argos was your horse! I was too annoyed to think anything of it -- and I lied and said you were away...but how else would he have known all those things? Oh gods, it’s my fault!”

“No!”

Arthur grimaced, and tried again, “No, it’s mine. He is here for me after all. Because of what I did.”

Gwen, standing by Merlyn, glanced worriedly at the dark windows.

“Shouldn’t you return to the castle, Sire? It would be safer.”

He could feel Merlyn’s cool blue gaze, and Arthur swallowed. Only one day left of the tournament, one day left of him as a free man. The safety of the castle was obvious. But Arthur slowly shook his head. He would see the tournament through. Turning back on it now was far worse than any fate the assassin would bring.

“No,” Arthur whispered, “I will stay here. He has no reason to suspect I am here. I will be fine.”

Gwen looked nervous, but nodded quickly. She stayed quiet, and so he could not tell what Merlyn thought. But maybe that was her way of agreeing.

“Gwen, it’s late, please be careful going back to the castle. Find a guard if you can. “

The girl nodded, grasping Merlyn’s hand in farewell. She picked up her skirts, and gave a small bow in his direction. Seeing the dark circles under her eyes, Arthur felt guilt creep up his spine. She had run down here from the castle, no doubt having waited until Morgana fell asleep. The night was late, and she was no doubt exhausted. It was a servant’s duty, of course, but right then, Arthur did not want another servant. He wanted a friend.

It took only a few steps for him to take Guinevere by the hand, making her turn in surprise. Arthur held her gaze for a moment, and then bowed low.

“Thank you for warning me...and thank you for allowing me to stay in your home.”


	7. In Plain Sight IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just want to apologize for the sudden hiatus. I did not mean to disappear like that. I am not abandoning this fic, I promise! I am so glad people love it - I love writing it.  
> -x-  
> I also need to apologize for this chapter - it is the (main) reason for the hiatus.  
> I rewrote it a million times and yet this is the best I could do.  
> I promised M. And yet I suddenly couldn't write it - Like I just can't and I am so annoyed at myself - Cause I have written it before and am certainly not a stranger to reading fic like it. 
> 
> Anyways, I do hope to overcome this in the future.  
> SORRY  
> I FEEL TERRIBLE

The door shut behind Gwen and Merlyn instantly cast the strongest protection spell she could think of. Arthur was in danger.  

Head turning, she watched as Arthur pulled the curtains closed, looking back to where his sword and dagger were propped against the wall near the bed. His gaze was serious as he studied Gwen’s house, seeing it from the viewpoint of the enemy. Carefully he pulled one of the benches from the table, positioning it a few feet from the closed door. In the growing darkness it was hard to spot, and someone charging through the door would not see it in time.

“Is there a back entrance?”

Nodding, Merlyn watched him disappear behind the half wall, leading to Gwen’s storage area. It was originally the entrance to her father’s forge, now owned by a new family. Scuffing noise, and Merlyn knew Arthur was setting a trap for that door as well.

She was confident of the spell she had used; no one could enter it unless Merlyn recognized them. But it also meant she could not leave.

He came back into the main room, Merlyn felt something else take hold of her heart. Arthur’s shoulders were tensed, but not from fear. He was plagued by guilt, and that was something he could not fight off. His endless pacing was as much about protection as it was forcing him to focus on anything but.

Circling Gwen’s house, he snuffed out the many candles, leaving them in a quickly growing darkness. The two candles on the table was where he finally paused, staring down at the meal they had not finished. His hands hesitated, then finally let them be, and Merlyn knew why. Their soft glow allowed just enough light for someone to leave.

But Merlyn wasn’t going anywhere.

She was glad in a way, for Gwen’s interruption. Their argument had taken a turn into territory that Merlyn could not handle. Arthur wanted her to be Queen?

The very thought was an iron grip on her heart. He could be so naive sometimes. And yet, watching him now, she saw a man who needed to believe in something. Merlyn had sworn to never leave his side -- but that did not mean she could ever be his queen. Not only was she a servant, she was also sorceress. And no matter how much Arthur loved her, she knew Camelot would not be ready for so drastic a change. Nor, she feared, would he.

But right now Arthur needed her.

Her whole body called out to him. So she gave in.

* * *

Lost in his thoughts, Arthur stared at the smokey trail lifting up from the candles. He didn’t hear Merlyn come up behind him -- only felt the sudden press of her body wrapping around his. But that was all it took to steal the tension from his body.

Her hands circled his waist, and he turned towards her, kissing her goodnight.

“Merlyn,” he whispered, “please be careful going back, I can’t have anything happen to you.”

The very thought send chills up his spine.

But Merlyn continued to kiss him, her arms tight around his waist. Shivering at her touch, Arthur pulled her closer, glad she had not yet pulled away. He didn’t want her to leave.

“I’m not leaving.”

Pulling back, Arthur caught his breath, “what?”

For a moment Arthur was unsure if Merlyn had actually spoken, the darkness giving a dreamlike essence to the moment. Her words echoed his own thoughts, but it couldn’t be true. Merlyn was merely a shadow before him, but her hands cupped his face, and they were cool on his skin. Eyes glowing from the flickering candles she pulled his forehead against her own.

“I’m staying.”

Arthur had no time to respond as her mouth found his, and he gasped at the fierceness of it. This was no dream.

Heart racing, Arthur swept Merlyn into his arms, her breath heavy on his neck. If tonight was all they had, Arthur was not going to waste another moment. 

"I love you."


	8. Damsel in Disguise

“Forgive me Uther, I did not realize the time.”

Arthur looked up from the table and promptly choked on his drink.

Yesterday, Morgana had been rescued from the druids and his father had requested that they eat breakfast as a family. Cleared of the court, and only a few servants present, Uther had been in a good mood. But it was not Morgana’s late appearance to breakfast that sent Arthur into a coughing fit.

Gwenevere and Merlyn had come down with Morgana, and had immediately begun serving alongside the kitchen staff. But all three woman were grinning, and Arthur knew why. Merlyn’s new outfit could only be an influence of Morgana’s taste -- of which Arthur was very grateful.

About her waist, Merlyn wore a brown leather corset.

Pounding on his chest, Arthur prayed he wasn’t bright red.

His father gave him an odd look then continued speaking with Morgana.  

Gods, Merlyn was going to kill him!

A corset like that was worn by lots of women in Camelot, but they only ever wore it over kirtles and skirts. Merlyn wore her standard tunic and trousers, but with the added corset, her otherwise masculine outfit became something else entirely. It brought attention to her small waist and wide hips, the tunic appearing more like a scandalously short skirt. Her breasts too, normally hidden under the loose tunic, were now cradled by the fabric and Arthur swallowed heavily as she passed.

It had been only a few days since that wonderful night, and then both had been swept back into their destinies. They had hardly had a moment to speak privately, or even touch each other again. More than anything Arthur wanted to hold her again.

Morgana’s kidnapping had sent the whole castle into disarray, and it had fallen on Arthur to keep order. But now, with her safe return, he hoped to finally have time to spend with Merlyn.

Shifting in his seat, Arthur wanting nothing more than to run her upstairs. That corset was far too sinful an article to be worn so innocently. It was all he could think about -- her smooth skin, firm breasts and soft moans. But, ever the tease, Merlyn served his breakfast, her smile innocent and professional.

Food has lost all flavor, but he did his best to eat, trying to ignore the memories flooding his brain.

“I think that would be nice idea, of course you may go. But this time I insist you take more guards. You agree, Arthur?”

“Yes, of course.”

Head swiveling back, Arthur tried to focus on Morgana and his father. But their conversation might as well have been in another language; Arthur had heard none of it.

And yet it seemed he had given the correct response, and Arthur hastily took a bite of a cooked mushroom. Now cold, the slimy texture forced Merlyn from his mind. He chewed slowly, the bitter taste working better than a splash of cold water. What were they talking about?

Uther and Morgana looked like father and daughter the way they smiled at each other. It seemed both were trying to get along, of which Arthur was glad.

“Have fun, my dear. You deserve a day to recuperate.”

Morgana grinned happily, clutching Uther’s hand, “thank you, Sire! It will not be a long journey, especially in this nice weather. And of course I will take Gwen and Merlyn too. We will have a picnic.”

Arthur froze, “Wait, what?”

His father waved a hand in response, “you can do without your servant for a day.”

Shutting his mouth, Arthur glanced over to where Merlyn stood waiting.

“Where are you taking my servant?”

Morgana rolled her eyes, “honestly Arthur, can’t you ever pay attention? I am going back to my father’s grave. Today would have been his 57th birthday, afterall.”

Uther gave him a pointed glare, and Arthur had no choice but to nod. Risking a glance at his servant, Arthur tried to quell the desire in his chest.

“Fine, take her.”

Morgana grinned, hands clapping together, and she flew from the table. Arthur watched as Merlyn and Gwen gleefully followed his foster-sister out of the hall. Staring down at his own breakfast, Arthur tried not to sulk.

“Arthur, the same goes for you. It was pure chance that you were away when the assassin was here, but I will not take any more chances. If you go out hunting today, you will not go alone. I insist you take one of the knights.”

Stabbing a sausage, Arthur sighed, “of course, Father.”

* * *

 

[Merlyn's corset](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/fa/06/03/fa060386cd919097b11d2d7be61c795b.jpg)

* * *

Morgana had magic.

Riding alongside the lady, Merlyn could not help but be impressed; Morgana was a force to be reckoned with. Despite her fears, Morgana gave no sign that anything was wrong.

She was in far better spirits today, and despite everything, still seemed to care for the King.

She chatted happily with Gwen, but Merlyn could still sense the occasional fear whenever Morgana had a moment to herself. The druids had helped her understand her gifts, but Morgana was no fool. This picnic was to spend time away from Uther. Morgana understood the King far batter than Merlyn ever could, and she had all the more to lose if the truth got out.

Even though Morgana had not gone through with killing the king, Merlyn had been cautious to trust her again. But when Morgana had woken in alarm, magic suddenly flowing through her veins, Merlyn could not abandon her. The woman had been so afraid, and despite the dragons warning, Merlyn had to help.

“I am still sad you took off my gift, Merlyn.”

Grinning, Merlyn shrugged, “I did not want to get dirty, my lady. But I will wear it everyday. I promise”

Morgana nodded, expecting nothing less.

“Good. One day I will get you out of those masculine clothes. And Gwen agrees.”

Rolling her eyes, Merlyn steered Thea around a fallen branch. Merlyn did like the corset, but she also knew it was more than just a feminine accessory. It was a thank you.

Morgana was thanking her, not only for finding the druids, but for keeping the magic a secret. Merlyn smiled, keeping secrets was one of her far better talents, especially when magic was involved.

“I am glad that we can do this, my lady, it will be a lovely break from the castle.”

Gwen always knew how to flatter Morgana in such a way that a new conversation could begin. But Merlyn had to agree, a picnic was a lovely excuse to get out of the castle. Morgana needed to be free of Uther and Merlyn was still nervous around Arthur.

She could still not stop blushing whenever she thought of him. And being near him? God's, chores were the last thing on her mind. It was a curse, seeing him throughout the day and not being able to touch him. She could still feel his hands on her breasts and her thighs, still feel his tongue and his lips...

Merlyn shivered, now was not the time.

The two guards ahead of them pulled to a stop, and Merlyn glanced around in surprise. Surely they were not there yet?

Looking back towards Morgana and Gwen, Merlyn’s magic flared in her veins. But it was too late.

Shouts filled the air, and men poured out of the woods, surrounding their party. Gripping Thea’s reins, Merlyn kicked the horse back towards her friends, but the men were everywhere. A guard shouted, and the clash of swords rang through the woods. These were no mere thieves.

“No!”

Kicking Thea again, Merlyn knocked into two of the men trying to drag Gwen from her horse. Hands latched onto her leg, but Merlyn shook herself free, magic forming on her tongue. Her friends were in danger and she had to risk it.

Something stung her neck, and her world went dark.

* * *

Groggy, Merlyn blinked slowly, the left side of her body throbbing in pain. Her vision cleared and Merlyn realized she was not on a boat -- the rocking motion was from a cart. She lay on her back, bound hand and foot, in the bed of a cart.

Her head cradled in Gwen’s lap, and she turned towards her friend

“Morgana,” she whispered, mouth dry.

“I’m here, Merlyn.”

Turning her head slowly, Merlyn blinked up at the disheveled and annoyed posture of a woman who had far too much dignity to be afraid. She was tied to the front of the cart, the rope held tightly by a rough looking man the size of a mountain.

“What happened?”

Gwen, her hair brushing Merlyn’s face, shifted slightly, hiding their faces from view.

“They came for Lady Morgana. When they realized you were a woman and not a page they spared your life. He...he said they won’t kill women.”

So that was what the dart had been for.

“They wanted Morgana? They knew who she was?”

Gwen nodded with the barest flick of her chin. Merlyn grimaced, so she had been correct in her guess -- these were no simple thieves.

Her hands, crushed underneath her back were quickly losing feeling. Shifting onto her side, Merlyn tried to fight off the lingering effects of the drug. But it was still heavy in her veins and that worried her the most. She could not reach her magic.

Until she recovered, the three of them were trapped.

A jolt of the cart had them both cringing. Merlyn grit her teeth; the fall from Thea had bruised the entire left side of her body. Gwen too bit her lip, holding in a cry.

At Merlyn’s glance, Gwen sighed, “I twisted my ankle.”

Biting her lip, Merlyn craned her head to get a better look at Morgana. The drug had cut off her use of magic, and had left her physically weak, and now Gwen was injured. The odds were not in their favor. But Morgana did not appear to be hurt and she was the one the men wanted. Shoving down the fear building in her chest, Merlyn knew what had to happen.

Glancing up at Gwen, Merlyn saw the same realization in her eyes. With the guards dead it was now their duty to protect the lady. Morgana called them friends - but their bond was far more than that. They were servants of the King. And, as Arthur had told her in the very beginning, no one expected a servant to fight back.

The cart jolted to a stop, and shouts filled the air. Rough hands pulled Merlyn from the cart and suddenly she was balancing on her feet, swaying despite the firm hands holding her. Her magic was the consistency of porridge, but Arthur had trained her well, and she carefully scanned the makeshift camp, looking for an escape.

Spotting their horses tied nearby, Merlyn found her answer. The thieves were after Morgana but they knew the value of extra horses. Merlyn bit her lip, if freed, they would run back to Camelot. At the very least it would get a warning to Arthur.

Shoved suddenly, Merlyn’s vision blurred, and she collapsed onto the grass. A knife cut at her bonds, and she gratefully swung her arms around. Rubbing the feeling back into her arms, Merlyn took a deep breath. She needed just enough magic to cause a distraction - her own wounds would have to wait.

Gentle hands took her by the shoulder, and she looked up into Morgana’s blue eyes. A small tent was being erected nearby, and though small, Merlyn had no doubt it was for the three of them. Merlyn let Morgana pull her under the small shade of the tent. Gwen was already kneeling inside. Her bonds had been cut, and she too rubbed at her wrists.

“I have a plan,” Morgana whispered, eyes watching the men file past.

“My lady?”

Morgana brushed back her hair, “We are getting out of here.”

Gaze flicking to Gwen, Merlyn nodded slowly. Morgana would not leave without them, and so they played along.

* * *

A call from the gate pulled Arthur and Leon from their preparations. Hunting would have to wait. Heading to the wall, Arthur followed the man’s call, staring out where the main road broke from the forest. And then the blood left his face

Leon yelled for someone to fetch the King, but Arthur could only stare down at the road.

Five riderless horses galloped towards the gate, seeking the safety of their stables. Three were large stallions, with heavy saddles used by guards. The fourth was Morgana’s white stallion, the misnamed Flora. The last, a dun mare, struggled to keep up with the larger horses. Gwen had been riding that one. But where was Thea? Where was Merlyn?

“Arthur!”

Turning, he could only stare as his father hurried to the wall. The King scanned the horizon, a sharp intake of breath his only reaction to the stampede.

“Where is Morgana?”

Arthur shook his head, turning back to see guards running out to calm the frightened horses. Stable boys quickly followed, and the horses immediately slowed, recognizing the young men. One of the guards looked up at the gate where Arthur and his father stood. Wiping one of the horse's flanks, the guard held up the bloody towel. But was it from a guard or the horse itself? Arthur tried to breathe, hand digging into the stone wall. Someone had attacked the party.

His mind swam -- Were the druids still after Morgana? Had they done this? Was Merlyn alright? Where were they?

Arthur could not fight off the fear in his chest. He could not lose her.

“We sent four guards.”

Arthur stared at his father.

It was Leon who understood, “There should be more horses.”

A small burst of hope sprouted in his chest. His father was right, maybe one of the guards had survived and was still with the women. Merlyn’s horse too was missing. Arthur clung to that thought. She was quick and smart. Maybe she had escaped.

“Gather the knights. All of them. You will go out at once.” His father’s voice was low.

Nodding, Arthur tore his eyes from the road. His stomach was in knots, and his body hummed with the need to kill whoever had done this. Leon bowed to the king, and ran off to alert the knights.

But another shout had them all spinning around.

From the woods rode a woman at full speed. His father gripped his arm, and Arthur dared not blink as the figure grew closer. The mare had one white sock, and Arthur knew at once that it was Thea. His heart was going to beat out of his chest -- who was the rider?

“Morgana!”

* * *

Rough hands turned her face back and forth, and Merlyn awoke with a jerk, trying to pull away. Her head throbbed, and the man easily grabbed her arm, keeping her still. Releasing her chin with a grunt, the man stood, staring down at her. He looked older than the other men, his hairline slowly receding. Scratching at his beard, the man nodded slowly, and waved his hand. This was obviously the leader.

Sitting up, Merlyn felt like her head had been replaced with a boulder. The poison was finally gone from her veins, but now she just felt empty. Merlyn had used all of her available magic to free the horses. But she had drawn on strength she didn’t have, and she had fainted.

And now she was surrounded, with no way of knowing if the plan had worked. Rubbing at her temples, Merlyn swallowed dryly, wondering if her captors would give her water. Glancing up at the men surrounding her she decided not to risk it.

A muffled sound to her left, and Merlyn gasped as Gwen was dragged forward. Her friend was much dirtier and still limping, but she was alive. Held close by one of the captors, she struggled against his strong grip. His large hand completely covered her mouth, but the girl blinked at her slowly, confirming Merlyn’s question.

They had succeeded -- Morgana had escaped. A small reward, but Merlyn felt the tightening in her chest relax. At least they had done that.

Shoving through the crowd the man - obviously the leader, sniffed heavily, then pulled Merlyn to her feet. Standing on wobbly legs, Merlyn glared at him, snatching her arm back. But the man only shoved something at her.

Morgana’s silk dress.

“Put it on.”

Merlyn stared at him.

“We were told to deliver the Lady Morgana. Hengist has never seen the Lady himself. But you look like her. So put it on.”

The man glared at her, but Merlyn shoved the dress away.

“No.”

A muffled cry, and Merlyn spun around to see Gwen being dragged away. The men laughed and her blood ran cold.

“Alright, fine! I’ll do it! Please leave her be!”

With a wave of his hand the laughter stopped, and the leader held out the wrinkled silk. Hands shaking, Merlyn took the thin material.

“If...if I’m to impersonate m-my mistress, then I will need her by my side. A lady must have a maid.”

Merlyn raised her chin, trying to sound brave.

“Of course,” the man grinned, revealing stained teeth, “my lady.”

* * *

 Arthur could feel his knuckles cracking around his dagger, but had no choice but to stay silent.

“They have done their duty proudly,” his father admitted, “and if they return, they shall be rewarded. But I will not risk my men for the safety of two servant girls.”

Morgana was hysterical, and Arthur had quickly pulled her away from the king. She was shaking with rage, and once they were in the privacy of Arthur’s chamber, she turned on him too.

“How dare you!” She screeched, shoving away from him, “You coward! Acting like you don’t care about Merlyn or Gwen! They saved my life and yet we abandon them? Ugh! I expected this from your father -- but you?”

Arthur quickly grabbed a knapsack, trying to recall what Merlyn would have packed. He shoved in a clean tunic, and the pack of bandages Merlyn kept for hunting. Scanning his room, Arthur shoved some apples in as well, feeling completely useless. He needed Merlyn by his side. Morgana’s ranting was not helping his nerves.

Gwen and Merlyn had lied to her, they had agreed to her plan but had no intention of escaping. Arthur didn’t know whether to be proud or furious at their decision.

Merlyn had been drugged by a dart, and yet still managed to untie the horses, sending the camp into chaos. Gwen had disarmed one of the captors, giving Morgana a chance to run and hide in the woods.

She had followed the horses trail, only to realize with each passing minute that her friends had not followed. That was when Thea had appeared.

Pulling on his chain mail, Arthur felt his hands shaking -- he had not been this afraid since his first battle. Throwing on his pack, Arthur stuck an extra dagger in his boot. Whoever the kidnappers were, they would not be happy about Morgana’s escape or being tricked by servants. Gods, why had he allowed to leave? Why had he not been there to protect them?

“Morgana...Morgana!”

Taking the woman by the shoulders, Arthur interrupted her tirade. His foster sister looked ready to collapse, and stared at him in confusion.

“Perhaps if you would stop shouting at me for one second, you would notice that I am packing.”

Morgana’s defenses fell and she stared at him, eyes heavy with fear and exhaustion. But her hand gripped his tightly, giving Arthur much needed courage.

“Bring them home.” 


	9. Damsel in Disguise II

“Sire, please, you need to rest -- just for a moment.”

Exhaling, Arthur pulled Ambros to a stop, letting the horse pick his way through the riverbed. He heard Leon dismount, but could not force himself to do it as well. The trail had gone cold an hour back, and they had yet to find anything. Unclenching his stiff fingers, Arthur released the reins and Argos relaxed beneath him. He did not feel the same.

“I don’t understand it,” Arthur shook his head, “we should have caught up to them by now. They would need to get off Camelot lands as quickly as possible -- and that would lead them in this direction.”

Hands took his reins, and Arthur stared down at his second in command. Leon was quiet and patient as always, but Arthur could feel the man’s concern. He had to stay focused.

“Get the map out again.”

Dismounting, Arthur loosened Ambros’ saddle, his leg muscles aching with the new position. Leading the gelding to the river bed, he watched his horse dip his head into the flowing water.

“They were after Morgana,“ Arthur relaid the facts aloud, glancing back to Leon, “they knew who she was. No doubt they hoped to hold her for ransom...but she escaped.”

Leon nodded, “the ambush was well planned, and the men were well armed. Obviously they were not druids as the King feared. These men were paid to fetch her.”

Running a hand through his hair, Arthur ran through Camelot’s list of enemies. There were quite a few. But he still believed the captors were Mercian -- Hengist was the only man foolish enough to anger Camelot in such a way. Morgana had overheard the men mention 'the Veil', which had meant nothing to her, but to Arthur it was paramount. The Veil of Denaria was a long abandoned castle on the borders of Mercia and Camelot.

Releasing Ambros, Arthur watched Leon unfold the map, crouching next to it. Arthur knew Camelot’s lands better than anyone, and yet they had lost the trail. His gut feeling told him that the men - for whatever reason- were still heading to the castle as planned. Marching back towards Leon, Arthur stared down at the map. It didn’t make sense!

Leon traced the map carefully, “With Morgana gone why would these men keep two servant girls? What would they gain?”

Arthur didn’t respond. Only one reasons came to mind -- and his stomach rose into his throat at the very thought. They were being held as punishment for helping Morgana escape.

“Sire, you should eat something.”

Snorting, Arthur shook his head. Even if his stomach weren’t in knots, Arthur never ate while out on a hunt. Merlyn knew that all too well.

Arthur stared down at the map again, willing a sign to appear. But no ideas came to him. Frustrated he shifted in his boots -- he hated feeling so helpless. And every moment wasted gave Merlyn less of a chance.

After a moment he felt Leon staring at him.

“What.”

Leon looked bashful for a moment, “Sorry, Sire, I've never seen you like this. About anyone.”

Swallowing the bile rising up his throat, Arthur turned away. Leon was right. Right now Merlyn was not his lover, only his servant. It was supposed to be a secret after all - and acting like a lovesick fool was not helping.

Kicking at a stone, Arthur watched it skip across the stream. Merlyn was fine. He would know in his heart if she wasn’t. She was out there somewhere. And he would find her.

“You really love her.”

Stones scattered as Arthur spun around, hand on his dagger.

But Leon only smiled at him, and any attempt to deny it died in Arthur’s throat.

Merlyn’s voice echoed in his head; Arthur was so used to seeing enemies, he didn’t recognize his own allies.  

Releasing his dagger, Arthur let his fear show.

“We don't even know if she's still alive.”

Leon’s gaze was strong and confident; “We will find her, Sire. Both of them.”

Taking a deep breath, Arthur stared out into the distance.

 

* * *

Shivering, Merlyn pulled Morgana’s red cape closer around herself. The silk dress, still beautiful despite the day's events, was unfortunately not warm. The sun was lowering into the treeline, and it took the day's warmth with it. The fading light also meant that Merlyn would not be able to find any landmarks. They had crossed through the caves of XX, the men using torches and drums to scare away any Wilddeoren. It was a risky shortcut, but the men’s pace had not slowed, and they had all gotten out unscathed. She recognized the caves only because Arthur had mentioned them. But the Knights had always avoided the area.

A breeze rushed through her thin ensemble, and Merlyn shivered again. They had been heading west all day, and while she didn’t recognize the area, she thought they were still on Camelot lands. Hopefully Gwen would recognize something.

The horse she rode snorted, and Merlyn clung to his mane, warming her fingers against his neck. She missed Arthur desperately, but was glad at least he had not been caught up in this mess. One way or another she was going to get back to him.

A call from a man ahead, and the group slowed. The man leading her horse pulled to the left, and Merlyn finally noticed the overgrown path ahead of them. In the thickening darkness she spotted the stone walls of a castle peeking through the trees. A horse sidled up to hers, and Merlyn glared at the rider. He was unaffected.

“Now, remember,” the leader spat, “you are the Lady Morgana. So act like it.”

* * *

“Is it that obvious that I...that I care for her?”

Arthur tried to keep his voice normal.

Leon didn’t respond, and Arthur forced himself to look over at the other rider.

“May I speak freely, Sire?”

“Of course, Leon.”

“Do you recall the day when Sir Lucan was too ill for training?”

Nodding in surprise, Arthur kept his eyes on the path. That had been months ago.

“He was drunk m’lord.”

Arthur jolted, and Ambros shook his head in response. Loosening his grip on the reigns, Arthur ducked around a tree branch.

Leon ducked under the same branch, “As you know, Sire, he had received news of his mother’s death -- and he did not handle it well. By the time the other knights had found him, the man could barely stand. And, well, I knew that his behavior would not please you... and so--”

Arthur didn’t know to laugh or be furious, “Merlyn.”

He remembered that day clearly. Late summer had brought a drought and refugees had been arriving in Camelot each passing day. His father was unfortunately, unsympathetic. That had led to another argument between him and Morgana. Arthur had offered a reasonable solution, of which had only made his father more angry. No doubt the whole of Camelot had heard the noise, and by the time Arthur had gotten away from the chastising, he had been ready to kill someone.

Leon looked sheepish, “she found us taking Lucan to Gaius, and then ran off to find you, Sire. We did not ask her to do anything. I swear.”

Arthur shook his head fondly. That girl had him wrapped around her finger.

“When you arrived at training, however, it was as if you were a new man. You asked after Lucan, and then proceeded with drills as if nothing had happened. If I may, Sire, what did she say to you?”

He had been in a storming rage. If he had found Lucan then, the man would have ended up in the stocks if not banished. And of course Merlyn had not cared one bit.

“She simply informed me that Lucan would not be able to make it. And then,“ Arthur sighed, “proceeded to speak treason about my father and his rule. She said things I dare not ever think -- and yet it was exactly what I needed to hear.”

Leon grinned, directing his horse around a clump of bushes, “Before Merlyn was around, none could have changed your mood like that, not even Morgana. It was then I knew you cared for her -- even if you did not realize it yourself.”

Chest tight, Arthur picked leaves out of Ambros’ mane.

“Do you think my father knows?”

Leon was quiet for a moment, “No, Sire, “he said finally, “I do not think the King has seen any change. Nor would he, after all--”

“Merlyn is only a servant.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and Arthur grimaced. It was because of her status that Arthur had snuck away with only one ally, instead of leading all his knights out to rescue Merlyn and Gwen.

“Nothing can ever happen between us, my father will never accept her.”

“You mean to marry her?”

Ambros shook his mane, and Arthur immediately loosened the reigns - he had not meant to say that out loud. Merlyn’s heartbroken expression came to him, standing in the flickering light of Gwen’s house. He had been hesitant to bring up the subject again with her. She had sworn to always be by his side - but that was not enough for him. He didn’t want her to spend her life in the shadows.

For a moment he was spared, as the deer path suddenly turned south. Motioning for them to stop, Arthur pictured the map in his head.

“Head back towards the river. The past few days have been dry and it will be slow. No more than a stream. Far quicker than getting lost in the woods.”

The horses snorted at the change, but quickly realized the low water was no threat. Looking up, Arthur knew they had a few hours left before nightfall. They would not find the group tonight. His teeth clenched at the thought.

He felt Leon watching him, and Arthur swallowed. Did he really mean to marry her?

Yes.

But even now, in the confidence of an ally, Arthur could not say it. Like a curse, Arthur said the words he had been told all his life.

“The King would never allow it. My marriage must be for the benefit of the Kingdom.”

Leon nodded in understanding.

“To me at least it is clear that she feels the same for you. And one day you will be King. I think she would wait, my lord.”

Glancing quickly at Leon, Arthur sighed, that was another complication.

“I do not think she wants to marry me.”

“You have told her?”

Arthur shrugged, “I have tried.”

“I would not give up on her,” Leon’s smile was a comfort, “you ask a lot. And she is far more aware of her status that you, I think. Give her time. And as for the kingdom,” Leon ran a hand through his curls, “she might be exactly what we need.”

* * *

“Lancelot.”

The crowd was loud with drunken cheers, as the two men battled inside the cage, but Merlyn quickly snapped her mouth shut. She stared at the man before them, and felt the last bit of her courage leave. She and Gwen were not the only captives here.

Blindly she stuck her hand behind the chair and Gwen grabbed it. The man he fought was strong and bold, but Lancelot was the clear winner. The men surrounding the cage yelled and laughed at the spectacle, wanting to see bloodshed. This was no sparring match -- it was a fight to the death. What had become of her friend?

King Hengist, their captor, sat on her left enjoying the scene. His idea of a gracious host was feeding her wine and meat from a table filthy with old food stains. Regardless, Merlyn had swallowed as much as she could, needing to regain her strength  -- as well as her magic. But when the cage fighting had begun, her appetite had disappeared.

If Hengist had meant to intimidate her, it was working. Merlyn was as much disgusted as she was scared. But now she was also angry.

Lancelot, having finally disarmed his opponent, had raised his sword again, heeding the cried of his audience. Praying to the gods, Merlyn dared not breathe as his sword came down. There was a sickening crack, and the man fell to the ground unconscious.

The cage opened, and Lancelot stepped out, slowly sheathing his sword. The room erupted in yells and boo’s, but a wave of Hengists’ hand and all was quiet again. Merlyn dared not even breathe.

With a grunt, Hengist waved Lancelot forward, studying the victor with a careful eye. But Lancelot seemed unaware.

“Still our champion. And still unwilling to shed blood, hmph...” Hengist’s sounded amused as he took a gulp of wine, “I present the Lady Morgana, our most honored guest”

Only a quick flash of confusion filtered across Lancelot’s face, before he bowed low.

“My lady.”

Conscious of Hengist beside her, Merlyn gaze a short nod. Hengist tossed a purse at Lancelot, which he caught easily, but his brown eyes bore into hers. When he spotted Gwen however, his face changed, and Merlyn saw a glimpse of the man she had known. Gwen’s hand was tight on hers, and Merlyn gave it a comforting squeeze.

“The Lady will unfortunately only be our guest for a short while, but perhaps she will be able to see you perform again. We must keep her entertained, after all.”

Hengist’s thick fingers wrapped around her arm, and Merlyn stiffened, “It is said Uther considers you a daughter. If that is so I imagine he has already paid the ransom.”

Her blood went cold. That was why Hengist had tried to capture Morgana.

Pulling her wrist from the King’s grip, Merlyn carefully took a gulp of her wine. They had to get out of here, and soon.


	10. Damsel in Disguise III

“You cannot find a way out?”

Lancelot stared at her through the small grate, dark eyes serious. She knew what he was really asking: _what about your magic?_

Glancing down to Gwen’s huddled body, Merlyn shook her head, “no, I’m...I’m too weak.”

Even with the food she had forced down, her magic was coming back far too slowly. And even if she did manage to unlock their cell, how would she explain it to Gwen? No, any magic she had needed to be saved for the right moment.

“I had never thought to see you again, my friend.”

There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked bruised and beaten. Tears sprung to her eyes, “don’t say that.”

Lancelot shook his head, “Seeing you there, and knowing that you had seen me fight -- it awakened me. I had lost all hope since we parted--It's the truth, Merlyn. For all my words, for all that I believed, I have come to nothing.”

Chest tight with emotion, Merlyn wished she could reach out to him. He was too good of a person to end up here.

Noise echoed from somewhere, and Lancelot ducked from the grate. Holding her breath, Merlyn glanced down at the tiny cot she stood on. Gwen had fallen asleep.

“Why does he call you Morgana?”

Finding Lancelot looking back at her again, Merlyn grimaced.

“We were ambushed. Gwen and I helped Morgana escape but we were captured. I was told to impersonate Morgana...but-but Hengist is going to get suspicious when Uther doesn’t send a ransom.”

Lancelot nodded in understanding, “I am going to get you both out of here.”

Merlyn swallowed, “be careful.”

“I will come back later,” he paused, “Is...is Guenevere alright?”

Merlyn nodded, “she is shaken, but she has a lot of fight in her...We were both glad to see you here. Should I wake her?”

“No-no, let her rest.”

Hands shaking, Merlyn glanced down at her sleeping friend, “thank you, Lancelot.”

Lancelot said nothing, his dark eyes full of pain. And then he was gone.

Collapsing onto the cot, Merlyn stroked Gwen’s hair back from her face. Hengist was a smart man-- far smarter than the man who had disguised her as Morgana. He would figure out the truth soon enough. But now Lancelot was here, and Merlyn forced herself to be brave.

Biting her lip, Merlyn carefully placed her hand on Gwen’s ankle. She could not heal it completely, but it would not pain her as much. And if Lancelot got them out, they would need to be able to run.

Curling up against Gwen, Merlyn tried to rest. Like Arthur, she did her best to think from the point of view from the enemy. No doubt, Hengist would come for her again and question her. Shivering in the silk dress, Merlyn tried to think of a plan.

 

* * *

Stuffed into a crevice, Arthur could not help but grin as another Wilddeoren lumbered past without suspicion. His trick with the berries had been a success - the beasts sense of smell was legendary -- but, as Arthur hoped, it was also their weakness. He kept looking around for Merlyn, expecting to see her glaring at him, exasperated by his risky gamble. It was an automatic reaction, to search for her presence --and then that awful feeling would build in his stomach. He was going to get her back no matter what.

It was Leon who had spotted the tracks leading into the Wilddeoren tunnels. The trail had been hidden, but it was sloppily done. It was then Arthur knew how they had lost the trail, he had expected them to go around the mountain, instead they had gone through it. As much as he hated these men, Arthur could not help but be impressed; they had used the Wildorereon tunnels to their advantage. It was taking him half the time it took to go around the mountain.

He would have to tell his father of this new pathway-- their enemies could not be allowed to use this ever again.

It had taken convincing, but Leon had eventually agreed to take the horses around the Andor mountains and let Arthur go on alone. They would meet up at the castle by the next night. And hopefully, Arthur would have already found Merlyn and Gwen. Sword in hand, Arthur had made his way through the various tunnels, more Wildoreen lumbering from his path with snorts of displeasure. It had been a few hours, and Arthur had followed the tracks without fail.

Ahead of him was the barest hint of light, and his spirit lifted. The sun was setting, and he had made it to Mercia.

He was that much closer to finding Merlyn.

* * *

She couldn’t help the tears falling from her eyes as she was dragged back to the dungeon. Uther had not sent the money for his precious ward and Hengist was furious. Merlyn was terrified of staying here another night; Hengist was not the type to make idle threats. One way or another he would discover the truth.

Thrown inside the cell, Merlyn tripped over the silk dress, only to be caught by Gwen. Clinging to her friend, Merlyn tried to stop shaking.

“Gwen..oh, gods Gwen, I think he knows.”

Merlyn had never felt so powerless. And she hated feeling that way.

Gwen rubbed her shoulders, and Merlyn forced herself to breathe.

“It’s alright, Lancelot is coming any minute. He has a plan.”

Their eyes met, and Gwen pulled her over to the cot.

“He spoke to you?”

Gwen nodded, face flushed, “not long after the guards took you.”

Taking Gwen’s hand, Merlyn felt a little of her fear recede. Gwen, despite her exhaustion and hunger, was hopeful. And Merlyn did not have to ask why.

She and Lancelot were kindred spirits, and Merlyn could not help but wonder at their destiny. Perhaps the gods had brought them here to give those two another chance. The Lancelot she had spoken with was lost and alone -- perhaps with Gwen he would reawaken.

Her chest tightened at the thought; Uther had again prevented two people from being together.

One way or another they were getting out of here.

A muffled bang had them both on their feet, instantly alert. Stripping free of Morgana’s cloak, Merlyn climbed to the grate, praying that the noise was Lancelot’s doing. There was a thud as a body hit the ground, but she could only see shadows.

“Merlyn!”

Lancelot was there suddenly, shoving a heavy key at her. Pulling it through the grate, Merlyn leapt off the bed and ran for the cell gate. The angle was awkward, and Merlyn risked a quick spark of magic to turn the key. The click of the lock opening was loud and clear. Gwen was instantly by her side and together they shoved the gate open.

Lancelot appeared, motioning them into the darkened antechamber where two guards lay unconscious on the floor.

“This way. We haven't a moment to lose.”

Picking up her skirts, Merlyn followed Lancelot down a series of passages. It was when they headed down a thin staircase that she felt magic prickle her skin.

Gasping, Merlyn stumbled, leaning heavily against the wall. She knew that feeling all too well --Someone had just been killed. Instantly Lancelot and Guinevere were at her side.

“What is it, are you alright?”

Nodding hurriedly to Gwen she stole a glance towards Lancelot, but his face was unreadable in the shadows. Shouts echoed from far off, and Gwen stiffened. It seemed Hengist’s patience had finally worn out.

Merlyn immediately grabbed Lancelot’s arm.

“No!”

Meeting his dark eyes, Merlyn knew what was going to happen. But his rough hand carefully pulled her from his arm, giving it a comforting squeeze.

Turning to Gwen, Lancelot pointed down the staircase, “Follow this tunnel. It will take you out beyond the castle walls. I will buy you as much time as I can. “

“What, no!”

There was a fire in Gwen’s eye, and it was her turn to grab onto the knight. This time Lancelot did not move, dark eyes staring down at the maid.

The echoes of yells were growing louder, and all of them flinched. But Merlyn didn’t move, and neither did Gwen. Catching her breath, Merlyn tried to think of a spell -anything that could help their escape. All three of them.

“I am not leaving you!”

Lancelot shook his head, far too calm.

“You must.”

“I will not leave you here to die!” Gwen’s voice broke, and Merlyn felt tears come to her eyes. Lancelot did not deserve such a fate.

Breaking free of whatever held him, Merlyn saw again the friend she had known. He was a knight in every sense of the word - full of honor and justice. But she also saw the sad flash of acceptance; knights did not fear death. Footsteps echoed, gaining fast and Merlyn muttered a spell to douse the torch lights. But Lancelot had made his decision.

Pulling Guenevere into a deep kiss, he gently swept back her hair as her head tipped towards him.

And just as quickly he pushed her away.

“I would die for you 100 times over. Live for me, or everything that I am has been for nothing.”

And then he was gone.

Taking Gwen by the hand, Merlyn pulled her down the stairs, praying to the triple goddess to keep Lancelot safe. Shouts followed them, as did the clang of steel. Heart breaking, Merlyn forced herself to keep running. Guenevere, face wet with tears, was right beside her.

* * *

Fingers aching, Arthur scrambled over the ledge of the keep. Grateful, but still alert, he realized that no one was standing guard. A freshly burning torch was all that stood in the tower room. He had seen men here earlier; where was everyone?

Ducking down into the stairwell, Arthur heard nothing but his own footsteps. Hand on his sword, he cautiously peeked into an empty antechamber. A sinking feeling spread through his veins; was he wrong? Had he come to the wrong place? Fresh food lay forgotten, and the small fire had a fresh log - clearly someone had been here recently. But was it the same men who had taken Merlyn?

Heading out into the dark tunnel, Arthur shook himself free of any doubts. No, Merlyn and Gwen were here. He just had to find them.

Whoever these men where, they had not been at the Veil for very long. Torches lit only the necessary routes, and Arthur took advantage of them. He passed chambers with broken furniture and collapsed ceilings, but still no men. Where was everyone?

Spotting another staircase, Arthur paused. Merlyn and Gwen would most likely be in the dungeons. Down he went.

Stepping into the tunnel, Arthur reached for his sword. The torches were out; but they still smoked and the strong smell of oil hung in the air. Eyes adjusting to the dark, he followed their trail. Something was not right.

Turning into the first entrance with light, Arthur found himself staring at two thugs laying unconscious on the floor. Chairs had been overturned and a spilled jug of ale dripped onto the floor; this had just happened. Hope flaring in his chest, Arthur bolted into the next room, sword out.

He had found the dungeons.

A lone torch lit the large chamber, but it was all Arthur needed to see that it was empty. The few cells were rusted over, cobwebs strung between the bars. No one had been in here for a long time. Lowering his sword in defeat, Arthur ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

There had obviously been a struggle with the two guards, and he had yet to run into anyone. Arthur shook his head, something had brought all the men together. Perhaps they were celebrating or fighting, or maybe they had left in a hurry. Iron wrapped around his heart at the thought, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe Merlyn and Gwen were somewhere else and he had failed them.

Turning back towards the antechamber, Arthur gave a last glance at the nearest cell. Instantly he grasped the metal bars, the cold metal reassuring that what he was true. There, a few feet from him, lay Morgana’s cloak. Arthur would know the bright red velvet anywhere. She hadn’t been wearing it when she had escaped-- that meant only one thing. Merlyn and Gwen were here.

A scream echoed through the castle and Arthur’s blood ran cold. It was full of anger and most definitely female.

Merlyn!

* * *

Shoved to the ground, Merlyn cried out as as she fell on her left side. Glaring at the men before her, she pushed herself back towards Gwen. They had been caught by pure chance, two men taking a piss near the exit had seen them running. But they had gone down fighting; their captors had broken noses and one was limping. Gwen had kicked him in the pants, and Merlyn could not help but smirk at him now.

Hands tied behind her back, Merlyn realized they were in the banquet hall. But this time she and Gwen were inside the cage -- as was Lancelot.

He had taken a beating, and at their arrival had yelled in anguish.

“Ah good, now that the ladies are present, we may begin.”

Craning her neck, Merlyn met the glinting eyes of Hengist. He leaned against the cage, yellow teeth bared in a grin.

“Let them go! They have done nothing!”

Lancelot struggled against his bonds, trying to inch closer to them.

“They have made a fool of me,” Hengist growled, “and believe me, Kendrick was the first to suffer. The stupid man confessed everything -- how our Lady Morgana is nothing more than another useless servant girl.”

Merlyn was shivering, adrenaline and fear coursing through her veins, but she glared at Hengist.

He snarled, then waved to their captors.

A scream ripped from her throat as she was dragged by her hair. Dropped just as suddenly, Merlyn’s vision cleared to find herself next to Lancelot’s leg. Crawling closer, she leaned heavily on his leg, skull on fire.

“Merlyn! Merlyn are you alright?”

“I’m sorry, Lancelot...” she whispered, “I-I can untie our bonds if you think you can get us out of here.”

If he responded, it was drowned out by the yells of Hengists drunken thugs.

“kill! kill! kill!”

The sound of a metal grate being lifted quieted the spectators and Merlyn didn’t want to know why.

Gwen screamed, and Lancelot stiffened beneath her and Merlyn had to look. Rolling against Lancelot, she craned her neck around. What she saw had her blood turn cold.

The beast sniffed from the gate entrance, buck teeth the length of her forearm. The audience howled and cheered, as it lumbered into the cage. She had never seen anything like it -- but she knew without a doubt it was dangerous.

Torches poked through the cage, edging the beast towards them, and it hissed in pain and anger. But the beast lumbered towards them, its naked pink body blocking her view of their only escape. Scrambling back on her elbows, Merlyn heard Lancelot yelling but could not make it out. Gritting her teeth, Merlyn whispered the spell.

Instantly Lancelot’s hands were pulling her back, and she collapsed next to Gwen. Vision blurring, she hugged Gwen tightly. Gathering her strength, she silently said goodbye.

She could kill the beast, but her secret would be out. It could also be her last spell ever. But Lancelot and Gwen would escape.

A figure landed in front of them, sword in hand, and somehow forced the beast back. He tossed Lancelot a sword, and Merlyn knew immediately who it was.


	11. Gold Digger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay, but here I am!  
> (Updates will be slow but they will happen)

“But, alas, the House of Tregor is no more. “

Lady Catrina trailed off, picking restlessly at her plate. Uther was quick to take her hand.

“No, my lady. The House of Tregor lives in you, strong and beautiful as ever.”

Arthur was careful not to cough, calmly reaching for his goblet instead. But wine was not nearly strong enough with what he had been sitting though.

Watching his father crumble beneath the gaze of Lady Catrina was disturbing, and also, comical. Arthur had watched many a friend fall victim to the same smile, and become a complete fool to love. But to see his stern and noble father take on such a guise -- Arthur finished his goblet in one gulp-- it was bizarre.

All his life he had watched women throw themselves at his father, but his mother’s memory was always a barrier in which none could pass. And as his father had constantly reminded him, handsome as the Pendragon men were, they were also prime targets for the power-hungry. And yet, while King was instantly smitten, Lady Catrina was gentle and restrained. She seemed hesitant towards the King’s affections, without any degree of malice or cunning in her whole being. By all accounts she seemed genuine.

Morgana flashed him a quick smile, and Arthur rolled his eyes. She thought this development was sweet, Arthur did yet not know how to feel -- besides uncomfortable. He wondered suddenly, if this was how he looked with Merlyn.

With a quick cough, Arthur stood from the table.

“I had a heavy day of training, forgive me, but I must retire.”

His father finally turned from their guest, “oh, of course, my son. Goodnight.”

Bowing to Lady Catrina and Morgana, Arthur strode from the hall as politely as possible.

Only on the landing of his chambers did Arthur catch his breath, tugging at the neck of his tunic. Merlyn had insisted that he wear his more formal attire. Now he was grateful to be rid of the stiff fabric, hoping its removal would also free him of that awkward meal.

Pushing open the chamber door, Arthur paused for a moment, watching the scene within. Merlyn was fixing his bed, carefully pulling down his comforter and folding back the sheets.

A surge of emotions flowed through him as he recalled their escape from Hengist. Seeing her lying there scuffed and filthy inside the cage had nearly broken him, and then the Wildoren had been released. But luck had been on their side in the form of Lancelot, and somehow they had cornered the beast and all four had made their escape.

He could still feel her body pressed to his as they rode back to Camelot. Until then he had not been able to comfort her, with Gwen and Lancelot nearby. And she had stood there shivering in Morgana’s dress, looking like a breeze could have knocked her over. But riding back to Camelot, her small form pressed to his, Arthur had finally been able to breathe. She was safe and that was all that mattered.

It was almost without thought, but he was suddenly behind her, pulling her close. Merlyn made a soft oh! of surprise, but just as quickly relaxed into his arms.

“How was dinner?”

Arthur exhaled into her neck, “awkward, to say the least. I had to make an escape.”

Her hip jutted into his, making him laugh.

“It can’t have been that bad, she seemed nice to me,” Merlyn tossed his many pillows onto a pile on the floor, “and very few of your father’s guests are kind towards servants.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Morgana seems to like her as well.”

Merlyn, giving the comforter a last tug, finally gave up on her chores and leaned back into his embrace. Grinning into her hair, he watched as her hands laid on top of his. Her knuckles still had a few scrapes that had not healed, and his chest tightened at the memory.

“You don’t like her.”

It wasn’t a question.

Exhaling heavily, Arthur sighed, “It’s just odd is all...my father has never acted like this before.”

Merlyn nodded, her fingers tracing the veins in his arms. The wine at dinner was finally hitting, and Arthur wanted nothing more than to pull her into bed with him. But as much as he wanted her, it was far too risky.

Spinning her away, Arthur regretfully dropped her hand. He gave Merlyn a small smile, and she returned it.

Stretching his arms above his head, Arthur felt his spine crack. It hadn’t been a complete lie, today’s training had been hard. Tugging off the tunic, Arthur flung it to Merlyn, wishing she would toss the uncomfortable thing into the fire.

“Tomorrow, we’re going to go out riding. I can’t sit through another meal of that.”

Merlyn paused in her search for a clean night shirt, “Just us?”

Arthur nodded, falling back onto his bed.

“Hear me out, we can take some medicines and such to the smaller villages - Gaius usually needs that done this time of year. But I can’t be in this castle for another minute, I need to be outside.”

 _I need to be with you_ , he thought, staring at the canopy.

His father was free to flirt and make a fool of himself, but outside of this chamber Arthur had to be careful if he even looked at Merlyn. It was beyond frustrating. He blinked heavily, staring up at the canopy. It had been changed today, he realized; this was the heavy red fabric with the endless gold design he knew so well. It meant winter had finally arrived.

His leg jerked as Merlyn quickly undid the laces of his boot.  

“Just a quick run to the closest villages, it won’t be unusual. And that is a simple enough task that I would not need any other servants or the Knights --wait, what?”

“I said yes.”

Sitting up, he stared down at his servant, a grin forming, “really?”

Merlyn kept her eyes down, ignoring him. She pulled off his other boot and set to the side. Her other hand lingered on his calf, as if she had forgotten it was there. But it slid up to his knee and Arthur was immediately aroused; Merlyn’s touch always affected him in this way. The chamber was warm, but goosebumps bloomed over his bare chest as he waited to see what she would do next.

With one quick movement, she was kneeling in his lap, holding him tight. Wrapping his arms around her, he gently rubbed her back, “Hey.”

She only clung tighter to him, and he realized she was shaking.

“Merlyn, what’s wrong?”

Trying to push her back was useless, she only clung tighter, refusing to look at him. Arthur could feel the tension in her body. Gods, what was wrong?

“Merlyn??”

Her voice was a whisper, a mere shadow of the woman he held.

“Arthur...thank you for coming to save us.”

Sighing, Arthur only shook his head. What had brought this on? Wrapping his arms around her, he felt her slowly relax, her breath tickling his neck.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry...I don’t know why it is still on my mind...but I was just so afraid...and then, and then, you were there and--”

Arthur cut her off, “Shh....Merlyn, it’s alright! Really it is.”

“I hate feeling this way.”

“It will pass. I promise.”

He had noticed her odd mood the past few days, a haunted expression on her face, but she was always quick to try and hide it. But now he understood. Narrowly escaping death was not something easy to forget. And while she had been in far too many dangerous situations, Arthur knew this had been different. He had seen many young knights fall to the same fear. Arthur could still remember his first battle, and the cold metal that had come far too close to his throat. It still gave _him_ nightmares.

Holding her close, Arthur gently stroked her hair. Merlyn saw it as a weakness, but he was glad she confided in him. She was the one who needed him, and Arthur was more than happy to hold her all night if that was what she needed. When she finally pulled back, her grin was shy, eyes rimmed with pink.

“I...I should go.”

Shaking his head, Arthur ran his fingers through her hair.

“Just a little longer. You’re still shaking.”

Nodding, Merlyn exhaled slowly, her hands resting on his chest.

It was too much, this beautiful distraught woman who needed him -- how was he supposed to resist? Leaning forward Arthur caught her mouth in a gentle kiss.

* * *

“Gwen, what is that?”

The maid paused on the staircase, shifting the bowl onto her hip.

“This is the fruit bowl from Lady Catrina’s chamber.”

Curious, Merlyn pulled back the cloth draped over it.

“By the gods!”

Snapping her hand away, Merlyn felt her eyes water. The fruit was black with rot. She could not even be sure what fruit the black lumps had once been.

Gwen pulled the cloth back down, grimacing, “It’s the strangest thing, and it’s happened twice before.”

“This has happened before?”

Gwen nodded, “I’ve had the maids scrubbing Lady Catrina’s chamber but they have found no sign of mold or insects.”

“Has she said anything?”

“No,” Gwen shook her head gratefully, “Lady Catrina has been very good about the whole thing.”

Merlyn shook her head, “Well, I’m going up there now. Maybe some fresh eyes will help find the culprit.”

Smiling, Gwen hoisted the bowl back into her arms, “thanks, Merlyn.”

Nodding, Merlyn continued up the staircase, tonic in hand. Perhaps the Lady had lost her sense of smell. Gaius had said she suffered from a terrible childhood illness. To not notice a pile of rotting fruit was odd, to not be angry about it was odder still. Anyone else would have made sure a servant paid dearly for that mistake. Despite Arthur’s misgivings, Merlyn was quite impressed with the King’s guest.

Merlyn tucked a loose strand of hair behind an ear, trying to contain the grin that had been continually sneaking onto her face all morning. Even the lingering smell of putrid fruit could not drive it away for long. However foolish she had felt last night, clinging to Arthur like a child, he had made her feel whole again. Arthur had been very gentle, letting her curl into his body. His touch had drifted through her dreams, and she had slept peacefully.

Awaking in the early dawn, still clasped in his arms, was both alarming and wonderful. His skin had been warm with sleep; Gods, she had wanted to stay with him. But she had silently ran through the castle, returning to her own bed for a few hours more of sleep.

Knocking on Lady Catrina’s door, Merlyn waited. Thinking of him now was torture. They had not had a chance to be alone like that since the tournament. All she wanted to do was run back to Arthur’s chambers and shove him onto the bed --

“Enter”

Sliding into the room, Merlyn dropped into a quick curtsy, hoping she wasn’t blushing. Lady Catrina, sat poised on a chair by the fireplace, her odd servant standing nearby.

“My Lady, here is your tonic.”

The Lady shook her head, “I am terribly sorry, there must be some mistake. I ordered no tonic.”

Confused, Merlyn glanced down at the vial in her hand.

“Oh, the physician, Gaius, he said you would need it...” Merlyn trailed off, “ you are not ill?”

Merlyn knew she was blushing now, but Lady Catrina only smiled.

“I am afraid not. I am in perfect health”

Curtsying again, Merlyn grit her teeth, “forgive me.”

Backing out of the chamber, Merlyn made sure not to trip over her skirts. She did not need to make even more of a fool of herself. But why had Gaius lied? There were a few other guests in the castle, but he had been very specific. What was going on?

Hurrying down the stairs, Merlyn gripped the small vial, Arthur completely forgotten.

* * *

 “You think she is an imposter.”

Gaius nodded, the useless tonic sitting on the table before him.

Merlyn rubbed at her temples, lack of sleep finally catching up with her.

“It was a test?”

“As I told you before, the Lady Catrina suffered from a severe childhood illness that left her on constant pain. Sometimes it was ever hard for her to walk. This tonic was the only thing to give her relief.”

Merlyn collapsed on the bench next to her mentor, “maybe she got better? Or found a treatment?”

Gaius shook his head, “unlikely. It is a lifelong illness that usually results in an early death.”

Running a hand through her hair, Merlyn sighed. Lady Catrina was so very kind, was she really an imposter?

“You haven’t noticed anything off about the lady?”

Merlyn shook her head, “No. I mean I haven’t felt any magic coming from her.”

The shop was silent, as both sat in thought.

Merlyn was plagued with worry. Had she missed something? Uther was clearly smitten, but was that the result of a spell? Lady Catrina had been here a week and had not harmed the King, despite many opportunities.

Arthur didn’t trust her, but then, he trusted nobody.  But besides her odd looking servant, the woman was almost forgettable.

Spotting the basket of fruit at the breakfast table, Merlyn froze. Jumping to her feet, she ran over to the small bounty, digging through it.

“Merlyn?”

She ignored him, searching each fruit for a sign of rot or the mark of an insect’s bite. But beside a few squishy spots on the apples, the fruit was fresh. Turning, she met his eye, recalling the putrid smell from earlier.

“I ran into Gwen on the staircase on my way to Lady Catrina’s chamber. Gwen was leaving and she had...um, the basket of fruit. And it was rotten. Gaius, you couldn’t even tell they were fruit! It could not have happened overnight...and it had happened before!”

Merlyn groaned, “Gwen wanted me to look around the chamber, but I forgot. She thinks there is some sort of mold causing this. But she hadn’t found anything. Could that be a sign of magic?

Oh, and Gwen also said, that Lady Catrina didn’t even notice. And it was an unbelievable smell, I mean it was bad. And Lady Catrina hasn’t said a word.”

Gaius nodded, face pensive. He was going to be buried into his texts all night, she could tell.

“Perhaps. But magic or not, she is not who she says. What we do know is what she is after -- who she is after.”

Merlyn glanced towards the outer door, heart sinking.

“The King.”


	12. Gold Digger II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *This chapter is X rated*

More days passed and the fear building inside Arthur’s stomach had slowly formed into a rock. Lady Catrina was definitely after his father, and she was succeeding. Morgana predicted that wedding bells would soon be ringing and Arthur hated to agree. The two lovebirds were never apart for long, and while Uther had enough sense to keep her out of Council meetings, Arthur wasn’t sure how much longer even that would last. He was grateful at least that Merlyn had quit singing the Lady’s praises, obviously sensing that he did not want to talk about their guest.

But today was the final straw. Uther had forgotten about his monthly ride to the neighboring villages, and so it had fallen to Arthur. How many times had Uther reprimanded him for avoiding his responsibilities -- especially when it concerned a woman?

The muffled steps of horses on grass made him turn, and he nodded gratefully to Merlyn. Taking the reigns for Archimedes, he scratched the horse’s nose. Arthur couldn’t help but grin as the war horse tried to get back to her. 

Merlyn was busy giving directions to the stable boy, but Arthur did not hurry them. Glancing at his saddle bag, Arthur mentally ran over his duties for the day. Several villages had disputes that he needed to settle, and one village was behind on their taxes. But winter was coming and they would need supplies. The King was a stern believer in the philosophy that ‘might was right’, but that had never sat well with Arthur. He knew all too well what his father would have said to the village -- but his father wasn’t coming. Arthur felt the knot in his stomach lesson at the thought. This was not a duty he had ever performed on his own, but perhaps it was time he had.

“Merlyn, are you--”

Archimedes pulled at his reigns, snorting in alarm and Arthur immediately spun around. Two figures galloped towards the stables, completely unaware of the world around them. Stroking Archimedes, Arthur tried to settle the war horse as the riders sped past. Thea, having not been trained for battle, only flicked her ears in response to the commotion.

His father, grinning like an idiot at Lady Catrina, finally slowed his mount to a trot, and awaited the arrival of the stable boys. Whatever she had been saying had captured his undivided attention, but Arthur could not think why. Lady Catrina was beautiful for an older woman, and had the status and manners of a noble - but she was quite lifeless and boring in his opinion.

He noted absently that her horse was foaming at the bit; the animal was also not a fan of the Lady. If he didn’t know better he would have suspected Lady Catrina of being another Sidthe.

Archimedes pawed at the ground impatiently. He was trained to respond to any threat, and seeing other horses at a run made him eager to get going.

Still Uther never glanced over to them.

“Sire?”

Turning back to Merlyn, he sighed,

“Yes, I’m ready. We can go.”

Throwing the reins over Archimedes head, Arthur pulled himself into the saddle. His father’s laughter rang out again, and he could not help the shiver that ran down his spine.

Biting her lip, Merlyn followed his gaze,“Do you think it's odd... how quickly they've become close?”

“There's nothing odd about it,” Arthur said finally, keeping his voice even, “My father is a wealthy and powerful man.”

Clicking his tongue, Archimedes obediently went into a trot. A trumpet sounded from the guards, and people hurried out of their path. They smiled up at him, some even waved, and the weight inside his stomach lessened even more.

Thea fell in step beside him, and Merlyn flashed him a quick grin. She had quickly become an experienced horsewoman, and Arthur could not help but be proud of her skill.

With a wave to the guard on the outer wall, he and Merlyn left the citadel behind them. Duty called and he would answer it.

* * *

Lady Catrina’s servant was not human. He had a tail.

Merlyn had only caught a glimpse of it, but it was enough to send her running to Gaius.

“What kind of tail was it?”

Panting, Merlyn stared at her mentor, “I don’t know --it was a tail!”

Gaius, with far too much patience, tapped at the pile of books before him,

“Yes, but any detail will help, Merlyn. Jonas could be a rare hybrid creature, or he could be under a spell. Either way it gives us much more information about the Lady Catrina.”

Running a hand through her hair, Merlyn closed her eyes.

Jonas had caught her snooping just as she had spotted some empty glass vials. They were the right size for a potion that needed to be ingested daily. But Jonas had arrived too soon, and she had had to scramble for an excuse. She could not tell if he was suspicious or merely annoyed at her presence, his odd appearance a strange contrast to the beautiful lady he served. As for the tail, Merlyn had almost mistaken it as a part of his ratty clothes. But as he shut the door in her face, his cloak had lifted enough to see the twitch of his extra appendage.

“Um...it was thin, thin and long. Maybe reptilian? It didn’t have fur or scales... but why would she keep a magical being as a servant -- unless she was of the same species?”

Gaius nodded solemnly, “that is a good guess, my dear. It could explain why you don’t feel any magic from her. As talented as you are, magic is specific to each species, and you would not recognize it at first.

I will do some research, but keep on eye on her for now. I still think our best chance is catching the lady when she is alone.”

Merlyn grit her teeth; that was easier said than done.

“Sure, I will just think of something else.”

Heading to her chambers, Merlyn splashed water on her face, hoping it would refresh her mind. If only Jonas hadn’t come back so soon, she might have been able to find more clues. She needed to get back in there, or at least find a way to spy inside.

Shaking out her skirts and running a brush through her hair, Merlyn took a deep, calming breath. Arthur had insisted she serve him at dinner tonight, and it would give her a chance to watch Lady Catrina more closely. And hopefully, Merlyn prayed, this could be settled without any major incidents.

* * *

Staring up at the canopy, Arthur could just make out the endless dark swirl that he knew so well. As a child he would try and trace the endless design until he lost track or he finally succumbed to sleep. But it was not working for him now.

Dinner had been another spectacle, and it had taken all of Arthur’s self restraint not to throw a bucket of cold water onto his father. It had gotten to the point where any amount of decorum his father held as King vanished as soon as Lady Catrina entered a room.

But Merlyn had been there tonight serving, and it was a welcome distraction. She had worn the leather corset over her blue dress, and Arthur had constantly needed refreshment, forcing her to lean over him and refill his goblet. After the third time, she had caught on, and the smallest blush had spread over her cheeks. He grinned at the memory.

Merlyn had of course gotten him back. Allowing himself one more glass of wine with dessert, he had instead choked on the awful and bitter taste of vinegar. It was only then that his father finally looked over, blinking at him in confusion. Merlyn, completely stone faced, had dabbed at his face, cleaning it like a child's.

Shifting his head, Arthur tried to get comfortable, the sharp tang of vinegar still lingering in his nostrils. Closing his eyes, he pictured Merlyn in her corset. He had not yet had the chance to take it off, and yet anytime she wore it was a day Arthur spent in delirious need for her. His hands drifted down into his breeches at the thought. She had been in this very bed not too long ago, clutching to him like she might fall off a cliff. He had loved every moment, distracting her with his tongue and hands, pulling her back from the ledge. Falling asleep with her soft breasts pressed to his side, Arthur groaned; the memory was too much.

A quiet scrape of a door unlocking had Arthur immediately froze. Quiet footsteps and the creak of the servants door had him on high alert. There was a dagger on the nightstand -- could he reach it in time?

In the dark he could only make a small, thin figure - but it was enough to make him relax. He knew she came in early to light the fires  -- but he could not have been awake that long. He smiled, despite himself; what the hell was that girl doing?

Carefully lifting his head, Arthur watched her take a small mirror from his dresser and head towards the window. Amused and a tad exasperated, he pondered whether or not he could risk putting her back in the stocks.

Leaning far out the window, Arthur could only guess what she was using the mirror for. But why? The chambers beneath his were empty ---

Sighing in annoyance, Arthur climbed out of bed.

“Merlyn.”

Her whole body jerked in surprise and Arthur heard the sound of broken glass hit the pavement below.

Crossing his arms, Arthur watched her slowly turn towards him.

“I have no doubt, Merlin, that you have prepared a very good explanation for this.”

The damn girl licked her lips nervously, and Arthur did his best to appear annoyed.

“I--I, uh, I came in to light the fires, my lord. It is a cold night after all, and I wasn’t sure I had done them properly before I left...”

Arthur played along, “if it’s so cold out, why did you open the window?”

Glancing at the window, Merlyn was delightfully nervous. Gods, she was such a terrible liar. It was a wonder she had kept their secret for this long.

Merlyn was stumbling over another excuse, and Arthur immediately felt bad for pushing her. Whatever odd idea had brought her to spy on Lady Catrina, Arthur knew it was not out of malice.

Carefully he walked up to the window, and closed it, his bare arm brushing her side.

“Merlyn?”

Round eyes stared up at him, and Arthur could not help but let her off the hook. And, since she was already here -- he couldn’t help but tease her.

“Merlyn, did you come to see me?”

From the moonlight filtering in through the stained glass, Merlyn’s blush was instead a mix of blue and pale pink.

She still wore her dress from earlier, though he was sad to see the corset was gone. But her hair was down about her face and he carefully ran a strand of it through his fingers.

Hesitantly her hands found his stomach, and Arthur flinched at their cool touch. But it only reawoke the desire in his loins, and he groaned.

Pushing her back against the window, Arthur kissed her with all of his might.

His hands cradled her head, cushioning her from the window. 

“I--I should go...” Merlyn whispered with each breath, “I -- really should go --it’s too risky.”

But Arthur was already pulling at her skirts, “No -- no, stay.”

He had to have her. There was no way around it. Leaning into her small form, Arthur groaned with desire. She was giving in, he could feel her muscles weakening, not wanting to push him away. A slight gasp, and then she was helping him pull her dress off. It fell on the floor, and his hands immediately found her breasts, her thin chemise a glowing beacon in the moonlight. Kissing her, Arthur shivered as her hands slipped inside his breeches. Gods, he loved this woman.

Kissing her deeply, he attacked her bare collarbone, getting another giggle from Merlyn. Her hands kept slinking over his bare skin, somehow making him shiver and burn all at once.

He realized finally, that she was muttering something.

“Away from the window-- Arthur!”

Her hands went went back to his bare chest, pushing him away. Surprised by her strength, Arthur stumbled back. Taking a much needed gulp of air, Arthur pulled her towards him by the front of her chemise. Flushed, Merlyn giggled nervously, and Arthur knew his own grin must have echoed hers. Her lips were bruised and plump, and her nipples pointed through the thin fabric. Backing into the dark chambers, Arthur suddenly had a wicked idea.

Grabbing Merlyn by the waist, he spun her around and dropped her into the large oak table.

Arthur could feel her blushing, her face hot in his hands, but she did not protest. Opening her legs, she pulled him close, kissing him hungrily.

His breeches were shoved down, and Arthur kicked them away. He fumbled with the chemise, and somehow it came off despite her refusal to stop kissing him.

Arthur felt the prickle of goose bumps over his skin, and ran his hands up her legs to her waist.

Pushing her flat against the large oak table, he climbed up over her. Kneeling between her legs, Arthur bent down and sucked at her breast.

“This table better hold us,” Merlyn’s voice was hoarse; she would not last much longer.

"It will."

Grinning, Arthur pulled her right leg onto his shoulder; he was also at his breaking point. Latching onto her neck, he scraped his teeth against her collarbone; teasing.

“Arthur!”

Hands under her hips, Arthur slid inside her wet entrance.

Her moan was the most sinful sound he had ever heard. Merlyn’s fingernails dug into his shoulder as Arthur started moving.

The table shook.


	13. Gold Digger III

Standing beside Gaius, Merlyn could only stare helplessly as Uther announced his immediate marriage to Lady Catrina. If any one of the court was surprised, they did not show it. They applauded respectfully; they knew better than to risk insulting the King. But had they known what Merlyn and Gaius knew, the people of Camelot would not have been so calm. What she had seen in the mirror last night confirmed what Gaius had also discovered; Lady Catrina was a troll.

Arthur, regal and stoic, stood beside his father, helpless to stop the proceedings. Merlyn had not yet had a chance to tell him. But she could tell by his posture that he was unhappy with his father, and her heart went out to him. Last night felt like it had been long ago, or even just a dream. This here was reality, and it was not good. The marriage was tomorrow and the imposter had to be exposed now, with Uther and the court present.

“You must try it now, Merlyn”

Nodding, Merlyn gathered the magic in her veins and sent it towards the false Queen. Troll magic was powerful, but Gaius theorized that keeping the disguise for several hours would have weakened her. Merlyn had no knowledge of trolls, and having spent the night with Arthur, had not been able to look through her magic book. She also had gotten little sleep. But Gaius was sure that with the right amount of pressure the spell would break.  

Merlyn swallowed, and pressed harder against the magical barrier. Troll magic felt wrong; unlike the many magic creatures she had met before, this magic felt dirty and sticky. It was like tree sap; the more she pushed against it, the more it stuck to her. Merlyn grasped Gaius by the arm -- this was going to take a lot more strength.

It felt like forever, but Merlyn finally saw the Lady Catriona flinch.

Letting her eyes close, Merlyn muttered the spell under her breath, hoping the attentive crowd would shield her from view. She felt the troll’s spell shudder again, and Merlyn forced herself to keep going. Sweat formed on her brow, and she felt ill. Wiping her free hand on her gown, Merlyn took a deep breath, hoping she was not going to faint. But she could not let this marriage happen.

* * *

Cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck as Arthur stood before the court. Morgana stood beside him, smiling at the happy news, and Arthur could not tell if it was genuine. It had been unwelcome news at breakfast, but Arthur had expected it to happen. Catrina was to be Queen, it was only a matter of time. And it appeared that tomorrow was the right time. But it was not the news of his father’s immediate marriage that had Arthur suddenly ill.

He had been standing there, stiff and formal, waiting impatiently until he could escape and have a brutal workout with a broadsword. His father had a tendency to drone on, and this was no exception. Apparently his marriage was to be the highlight of the year.

Normally, during these proceedings Arthur’s one solace was finding Merlyn in the crowd. She always managed to give him a smile or sarcastic smirk at whatever his father was announcing. He had not seen her since she had slipped away this morning, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead.

But when he found her in the crowd, Arthur was sure his heart had stopped beating. Merlyn was pale and distraught. She stared blankly ahead, leaning heavily on Gaius for support. He could not imagine what was wrong - the last time she had looked like this, her mother had been attacked.

It took all his willpower not to run over and demand an answer. He watched as Gaius whispered something, but it did not seem to comfort her.

Arthur wracked his brain, wondering what news could have her in such a state? She had not been like this last night, he was sure.

The court applauded to something his father said, but Arthur might as well have been deaf. Why hadn’t Merlyn mentioned anything to him? What was she hiding?

It was a subtle thing, her hand casually pressing against her stomach, that made Arthur go cold. Was Merlyn pregnant?

* * *

Leaning on Gaius, Merlyn slipped out of the Hall through the servants entrance. Gaius insisted that she lie down, regain her strength, but that was not why she felt awful. She had not been able to break the spell on the troll.

Collapsing on a bench inside his shop, Merlyn took a steadying breath.

“What do we do now?”

Gaius was lost in thought, mixing something in a bowl. After a moment he turned and handed it to her.

“Eat.”

Merlyn focused on the bowl before her, taking it slowly into her hands. It was leftover chicken soup from the night before. But she also spotted several new herbs floating around in the cold broth. One had a distinct purple color, and Merlyn recognized the herb as an ingredient for a hangover cure. Her own magic felt all dried out, and the troll magic still seemed to be hanging around like bad perfume; yes, Merlyn supposed, it was quite similar to a hangover. Grabbing the spoon, Merlyn lifted the cold broth to her lips. She didn’t even have energy to heat the bowl.

“Merlyn..I think perhaps your magic did not work because you were aiming for the troll herself.”

Looking up, Merlyn watched as Gaius thumbed through a text, face serious.

“What do you mean?”

“Troll magic is powerful, but should eventually break. The Lady Catrina obviously felt you pressing on her magic, but she remained calm. I do not think she has cast a spell on herself, I think she has created a potion in the likeness of Lady Catrina -- yes, that would make more sense..” Gaius trialed off, lost in thought.

Merlyn swallowed another mouthful, slowly chewing a piece of chicken. She was too tired to feel annoyed at his revelation, merely glad she would not have to go through that again.

“Last night you said she had been a troll while in her chambers?”

Merlyn nodded.

“I saw her heading to the dungeons around that time... a potion would make more sense. It would only allow her a small amount of time, and must keep drinking the potion -- but at night, as you and I both saw, the potion wore off and she was a troll again.”

“But how can she keep doing that?” Merlyn set the bowl on her lap, “I mean, once she marries the king she will not have a private chamber for herself -- and she would eventually run out of ingredients.”

Gaius nodded absently.

“Maybe this potion is in the dungeon? Maybe that is why she heads there at night?”

Gaius looked thoughtful, “could be, we will have to watch for her again tonight. With the wedding tomorrow she will definitely need to have as much of the potion as she can.”

This would be another night without much sleep. Merlyn sighed, though not nearly as fun as last night. Lifting the bowl to her lips, she drank as much as she could.

Standing, Merlyn was glad to feel some strength returning to her.

“I am going to tell Arthur. I have to... maybe he can prevent the wedding, or delay it somehow.”

Gaius nodded, “I will research further. Good luck, my dear.”

* * *

Arthur paced his chambers, unsure whether he should be elated or terrified. There were too many thoughts running through his head. Practice with the knights had not calmed his nerves at all and so he had cut it short. Now he impatiently waited for her arrival.

Uther’s voice so many years ago echoed in his head. Merlyn would be sent away -- he could lose her. Not that Arthur would ever let that happen.

No -- instead he would shout out the news to the world. He would hold Merlyn beside him and marry her on the spot. His father and the court, be damned.

Throwing off his leather vest, Arthur kicked his boots off as well, and they flew against the wall with a heavy thud. Gods, where was she?

“Sire! You’re here already? I can call the bath up for you now or if--”

Arthur swung around at her voice.

“Are you alright? Were you hurt?” She trailed off, looking surprised.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur studied her again. She had color in her cheeks and looked more alert -- had he been imagining it?

“Merlyn,” Arthur ran a hand through his hair, “is there something you want to...are you alright? You--you looked ill earlier, at the announcement.”

Merlyn paled, and Arthur was sure his knees might give it out.

“I--uh, well, Sire, there is something I wanted...”

A rush of fear, or maybe it was hope, erupted in his chest. But he couldn’t take it any longer. Taking her by the shoulders, Arthur pulled her further into the chamber. Sunlight shone through the stained glass, casting a rainbow over her face, eerily reminiscent from last night. Arthur ignored that thought. It was now or never.

“Merlyn are you-- are you pregnant?”

* * *

 With a cry, Merlyn fell, scraping her hands and knees on the cold stone floor. Looking up, she saw the little rat grinning at her. But she had spent a very cold and awful night locked in a dungeon, and she had no time for games.

“Can I help you, miss Merlyn?” Jonas grinned.

Climbing to her feet, she brushed back her dirty hair.

“I am going in there.”

Jonas shook his head, sweeping in front of the double doors.

“You will not disturb my mistress!”

Gathering her remaining strength, Merlyn heard the unmistakable sound of applause. With a yell, Merlyn blasted the doors open, throwing Jonas aside. Running into the crowded room, she saw Catrina and the King bowing before the court, hands clasped.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

The chorus began to sing, and her legs gave out.

She was too late.


	14. Gold Digger IV

Arthur bolted up the staircase, fear coursing through his veins. A few days of marriage and the Queen was showing her true colors. And for some reason she had it out for Merlyn. But why? Had Merlyn been foolish enough to tell anyone else about her troll theory?

The guards had been sent to check the stables and Gaius’ shop. It wouldn’t buy much time, but he needed to find Merlyn first. Bursting into his chambers, Arthur did not stop, just grabbed Merlyn and ran to the servants door.

“Arthur! What is it!” She cried, trying to steady herself in his arms. He squeezed her tight. For one insane moment Arthur considered taking on the guards himself.

“Catrina is after you. She accused you of stealing her royal seal. The guards are coming to find you now.”

Merlyn pushed away from him, “what? Her royal seal? Why would I take that?”

Arthur shook his head, “She doesn’t need a reason. But you need to hide.”

Biting her lip, Merlyn nodded, “alright, Gaius will know what to do.”

Taking her head in his hands, Arthur kissed her deeply. He would not lose her.  The sound of boots echoed down the corridor, getting louder. Merlyn kissed him back just as fiercely, hands gripping his shirt.

Opening the servant’s door, Arthur shoved her through it,

“Go!”

* * *

 

The afternoon sun was warm on her back, and Merlyn sat on the nearest bench. She had been disguised all day, but it was still a risk to draw attention to herself. And so she did not immediately head back to Gaius’s shop. Instead she stayed out on the courtyard, the few guards who passed, hardly sparing her a glance. Her hair was blond, tied up in a scarf and her blue dress was now a light purple. The spell would not last much longer, but Merlyn could extend it until she returned.

Right now she needed to think. Merlyn had just escaped the wardrobe of Catrina’s chambers. She had overheard the troll and her nasty servant, and already a plan was forming in her head. Gaius had been right, it was a potion that kept the troll in human form. And she kept bottles of it in her chamber.

As Merlyn had already discovered, the dungeon was simply where the troll slept. But this made it easier. She had risked taking a bottle, and now it rolled between her fingers. They could switch out the potion -- but when? It would have to be someplace public, with the King and court present. Merlyn shuddered, at the moment the King and Queen were keeping mostly to his chambers.

But something was going to happen soon. Catriana was not satisfied with her new status. The troll was disappointed in her small crown and the little amount of jewels it contained. She wanted access to all of Camelot’s riches, and Merlyn had no doubt Uther would grant her wish.

Gaius needed to see the potion -- perhaps he would have a better idea. Until then she needed to stay hidden.

Rising, Merlyn was careful to walk slowly and with as much grace as possible. Just to be safe, she headed out of the castle as if heading towards the market. Slipping into an alley, Merlyn circled back to Gaius’ shop.

* * *

 

Eager to get away from the castle, Arthur took a walk through the city. More and more duties had fallen to him since the wedding. Not officially, of course, but his father seemed to have forgotten he was King. Arthur did not mind the work, but it irked him to no end that his father was being so careless. He needed a distraction.

Normally Merlyn would be with him, but she was in hiding. There was a rumor that guards had found a trail leading away from Camelot, but Arthur doubted it was her. Some poor hunter was more likely the one being tracked. He hated to know she was in danger and that he could not protect her. Merlyn was surprisingly crafty, however, and he had to trust her. It was not difficult for him to act angry and upset at her disappearance, not that Uther paid any mind. Only Catrina seemed to notice, her smile of sympathy not quite reaching her eyes.

Smiling as two children ran past, Arthur nodded politely to the women selling flowers and baked goods. As often as he could Arthur would try and walk the city. Unlike his father, Arthur wanted the people to like him as well as trust him. And without an official guard surrounding him wherever he went, it was almost as if he were incognito. More and more people were beginning to speak to him, asking about his health and conversing about business. His favorite moments were when he was pulled into a conversation, the speaker not immediately recognizing that he was the prince.

Already Arthur had spotted a well that needed to be fixed, and some loose cobblestones that damaged any cart that went by. Normally it would be another few weeks before a city official would come to the castle for aid, but Arthur would make sure these problems were handled immediately. They were only small things, but, according to Merlyn, it meant a lot to the people of Camelot.

A scream echoed through the busy street, and Arthur’s blood went cold. Bolting through the crowd, Arthur turned down the first alley he came across and followed the crowd down Cobbler’s street.

He could not believe what he was seeing. City guards had dragged a shop owner and his wife into the street. The woman was crying, clutching at her husband who was begging the guard to give them more time. Inside the shop Arthur could hear another guard ransacking the place.

Seeing red, Arthur pressed through the crowd.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Instantly the guards turned and bowed, but did not release the man.

“Sire, we are collecting taxes.”

Arthur shook his head, “takes have already been collected for this month.”

With only a slight pause, the guard nervously shook his head, “the King and Queen decided to take another tax.”

Breathing through his nose, Arthur was careful to remain calm.

“Give them back their money.”

“But, sire--”

“Now.” Arthur finalized, “and return all other taxes you have collected today. Is that clear?”

Releasing the shop owner, the guards bowed hesitantly, and handed back a number of coins from the tax purse.

Before the guards could turn away, Arthur held up a hand, “And where is the tax book? Why were you not taking record? This is not how taxes are collected.”

The guards had enough sense to look guilty, but Arthur understood they had only followed orders, and he had little doubt whose orders it was.

“I will speak to the King. But make it known, no taxes are to be collected today.”

The guards left, and Arthur forced himself to breathe. This was Catriona's doing. His father was strict about taxes, and though they were high, Uther used the money judiciously. The crowd dispersed with people whispering furiously to each other. Taking a step forward, Arthur helped the man and woman to their feet.

Pulling a silver coin from his pocket, Arthur bowed low.

“For your shop.”

Pressing the coin into the wife’s hand, he turned and left before they could protest. He needed to get back to the castle.

Feeling watched, Arthur spotted Gwen back in the thinning crowd. Nodding, he waited for her to catch up. She wasn’t Merlyn, but Arthur knew he could trust her. And at the moment he needed someone to confide in. Basket in hand, the pretty maid kept pace with him as they headed up the road.

“What exactly is going on, Gwen?”

She looked troubled, “I don’t know, Sire. I don’t know.”

* * *

 

Arthur’s head rested on her chest and she gently stroked his dirty blond hair.

“You should've heard the way he spoke to me. He can't stand the sight of me.”

Merlyn shook her head, “I'm sure he was angry, but you're still his son. And the King needs to see reason. This is definitely her influence, she is a greedy troll --”

“Merlyn.”

Rolling her eyes, Merlyn quieted. He still did not believe her troll theory. Not that it was a theory anymore.  

Stroking his hair again, Merlyn wanted nothing more than to slap Uther. Arthur had been working overtime to run the country, and the King had not even noticed. She also knew how difficult it was for him to go against his father. And as much as she disliked Uther, this was not in his normal behavior. If anyone could make him see sense, it would have been Arthur. This was more than infatuation with his new bride, this had to be a spell.

She prayed that Gaius would have a concoction soon. The Queen had to be revealed.

“You've a kind heart, Arthur. Don't ever change. Not for anyone.”

Slowly Arthur pushed himself to all fours, and Merlyn stared up into his blue eyes. His head lowered and his captured her lips in a slow, heavy kiss.

Falling to his elbows, Arthur let his body rest over hers. It felt so natural, his weight on top of her, that it was almost frightening. The prophecy was heavy in her mind, but she pushed it away. No matter what she would be in Arthur’s life.

Tracing her fingers down his back, she started to untuck the tunic and vest she had dressed him in that morning.

He smiled against her lips, and she knew he also needed the distraction. Uther had been harsh, and while Arthur knew he was right, it still affected him.

Suddenly his lips pulled away, and his blue eyes were worried, “you’re sure, though. You won’t...?”

She flushed, holding back a grin.

“Stop laughing, Merlyn,” Arthur pinched her side, making her squeal. Arthur had seen her failed attempt of revealing the troll, and had somehow come to the conclusion that she was pregnant.

She had then had the fun time of explaining that Gaius made a special potion which would help prevent a child. What she hadn’t mentioned was the spell. Merlyn had cast it a while back, having found it buried deep in her magic book. It was binding, and only she could remove it.

Brushing a hand against his face, she bit her lip, “I’m not laughing, Arthur, I promise. I was touched, really. So many nobleman send their servants and mistresses away, but you--”

“I was not going to lose you.”

Desire raced up her limbs, and Merlyn decided to focus on that, rather than the tears pricking at her eyes. Fate would not allow it, otherwise she would have gladly borne his child.  

Grabbing his face, Merlyn kissed him passionately. Arthur had been ready to throw it all away for her. He would have married her before the court and his father, he had even sworn to abdicate if needed. What had she done to deserve such a man? It almost broke her heart to think of it.

Merlyn pulled the tunic over his shoulders, meeting his mouth in another kiss. The night was young, and they needed each other.


End file.
